THE  FLAW   IN   THE   SAPPHIRE 


OP  CALIF.   LIBRARY,  LOS 


THE  FLAW  IN 
THE  SAPPHIRE 


By  CHARLES   M.    SNYDER 

AUTHOR  OF  "COMIC  HISTORY  OF  GREECE" 
"RUNAWAY  ROBINSON"  "SNAP  SHOTS"  ETC. 


NEW  YORK 
THE    METROPOLITAN    PRESS 

1909 


Copyright,  1909,  by 
THE  METROPOLITAN  PRESS 


Regittered  at  Stationers'  Hall,  London 
(All  Bights  Reserved) 


Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 


PRESS   OF   WM.    O.    HEWITT 

24-26  VANDEWATER  ST. 

NEW  YORK 


A  friend  who  stands  since  "Auld  Lang  Syne*' 

To  all  that's  fine  related ; 
To  him,  this  little  book  of  mine 

Is  duly  dedicated. 

— CHARLES  M.  SNYDER. 

New  York,  September,  1909. 


2132936 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 


long  since  there  lived,  in  the  city  of 
Philadelphia,  a  young  man  of  singular  iden- 
tity. 

His  only  parallel  was  the  comedian  who  is 
compelled  to  take  himself  seriously  and  make 
the  most  of  it,  or  a  tart  plum  that  concludes 
in  a  mellow  prune.  ; 

He  was  the  affinity  of  two  celebrated  in- 
stances to  the  contrary. 

To  those  who  enjoy  the  whimsies  of  paradox 
he  presented  an  astonishing  resemblance,  in 
countenance,  to  the  late  Benjamin  Disraeli, 
and  maintained  in  speech  the  unmistakable  ac- 
cent of  O'Connell,  the  Hebrew  statesman's 
Celtic  antagonist. 

For  these  reasons,  until  the  nature  of  his 
business  was  discovered,  he  was  regarded  with 
interest  by  that  class  which  is  disposed  to  es- 
timate the  contents  of  a  book  by  the  character 

[1] 


of  the  binding,  or  thinks  it  can  measure  a 
man's  ability  by  the  size  of  his  hat. 

On  nearer  acquaintance,  he  was  relegated 
to  the  dubious  distinction  of  an  oddity  to  whom 
you  would  be  pleased  to  introduce  your  friends 
if  you  had  only  a  satisfactory  account  of  his 
antecedents. 

He  was  cheerful,  startling,  ready  and  adroit. 

Until  betrayed  by  his  brief  but  effectual 
familiarities,  it  was  a  curious  experience  to  re- 
mark the  approach  of  this  singular  being  and 
wonder  at  the  appraising  suggestion  in  his 
speculative  glance. 

Presently  you  decided  that  it  was  the  in- 
tention of  this  young  man  to  address  you,  and, 
unconsciously,  you  accorded  him  the  opportu- 
nity, only  to  be  scandalized  the  moment  after- 
ward by  the  query,  altogether  incongruous  in 
such  a  promising  aspect: 

"Any  old  clothes  to-day?" 

And  you  passed  on,  chagrined  and  wonder- 
ing. 

For  a  number  of  years,  while  his  auditors 
paused  in  an  attempt  to  disentangle  the  Semite 
from  the  Celt,  there  was  scarcely  a  day  in  which 

[2] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

he  had  not  subjected  himself  to  the  more  or 
less  pronounced  hazards  of  rebuff  incident  to 
his  invariable  query,  and  there  were  few  citi- 
zens of  the  sterner  sex  whom  he  had  not  thus 
addressed. 

Apparently  no  consideration  restrained 
him. 

None  was  too  dignified,  none  sufficiently 
austere  to  escape  his  solicitation;  and  while,  as 
a  rule,  he  waited  until  the  object  of  his  regard 
came  to  a  standstill,  he  had  been  known  to 
approach  diagonally,  and,  at  the  point  of  inci- 
dence, presenting  his  query,  pass  on  with  a 
glance  of  impassive  impersonality  when  it  was 
evident  that  his  overtures  were  futile  or  worse. 

When  successful  in  his  forays,  he  would  con- 
vey the  results  of  his  efforts  to  his  father,  who, 
after  getting  the  garments  thus  secured  in  a 
condition  of  fictitious  newness,  displayed  them 
in  front  of  his  establishment,  marked  with 
prices  which,  as  he  explained  to  those  unwary 
enough  to  venture  within  the  radius  of  his 
personality,  brought  him  as  near  to  nervous 
prostration  as  was  possible  for  the  parent  of 
such  inconsequent  offspring. 

[3] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

However,  no  matter  what  the  rewards  of 
such  industry,  it  must  not  be  imagined  that  its 
disabilities  did  not  insist  upon  due  recognition 
and  ugly  ravel,  and  that  such  shred  and  fibre 
did  not  obtrude  their  unwelcome  appeals  for 
repair  upon  their  central  figure. 

Shrewd,  intelligent,  persistent,  he  soon  dis- 
covered that  the  very  qualities  which  made 
him  successful  in  his  calling  rendered  him  ob- 
noxious to  those  who  were  unable  to  harmon- 
ize his  promise  with  his  condition. 

However,  like  the  majority  of  his  country- 
men, outside  of  those  who  constituted  the  Man- 
hattan police  force  and  provided  the  country 
with  justices  of  the  peace,  this  young  man  was 
a  philosopher. 

He  could  always  provide  a  silver  lining  for 
a  cloud  as  long  as  it  was  plausible  to  do  so, 
and  when  he  had  exhausted  his  genial  resources, 
he  looked  at  facts  squarely. 

On  this  basis  he  decided,  finally,  that  his 
was  a  case  of  "bricks  without  straw,"  enthusi- 
asm minus  its  basis,  an  unhappy  conclusion 
which  was  emphasized  by  his  patient  attempts 

[4] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

to  soften  his  angularities  with  the  advantages 
provided  by  a  night  school. 

Unfortunately,  a  business  man,  with  an 
eye  to  the  bizarre,  to  whom  Dennis  had 
presented  some  of  his  characteristic  enter- 
prises, had  put  the  young  Irishman  in  the  way 
of  securing  a  biography  of  the  Hebrew  pre- 
mier, whom  he  provided  with  such  an  absurd 
travesty  of  likeness,  and  the  "ole  clo'  mer- 
chant" was  so  impressed  by  the  resolution  and 
dexterity  of  the  celebrated  statesman,  that  he 
became,  from  that  moment,  the  prey  of  a  con- 
suming ambition  whose  direction  he  could  not 
determine. 

He  grew  positive  daily,  however,  that,  in 
view  of  these  stimulating  aspirations,  he  could 
no  longer  pursue  his  embarrassing  avocation. 

On  the  basis,  therefore,  that  the  greater  the 
pent  the  more  pronounced  the  explosion,  the 
young  merchant  developed  a  dangerous  readi- 
ness to  embrace  the  first  opportunity  that  pre- 
sented herself  in  the  hope  that  the  caress  would 
be  returned. 

Presently,  the  determination  to  exchange 
his  present  humiliations  for  future  uncertain- 

[5] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

ties  advanced  him  to  the  point  where  he  in- 
formed his  father  of  his  decision,  and  the  latter 
immediately  succumbed  to  a  collapse  which 
was  Hebraic  in  its  despair  and  entirely  Celtic 
in  its  manifestation. 

When  this  irate  parent  realized,  at  last,  that 
this  invaluable  arm  of  his  business  could  not 
be  diverted  from  its  purpose,  with  cruel  celerity 
he  cut  off  his  son  from  all  further  consideration 
and  forbade  him  the  premises. 

With  the  previous  week's  salary  in  his  pock- 
et, which,  fortunately,  had  been  undisturbed, 
Dennis  Muldoon,  on  the  day  succeeding  this 
unhappy  interview  with  his  sire,  set  out  for 
New  York  City  with  his  few  belongings  con- 
densed, with  campaigning  foresight,  in  a 
satchel  whose  size  and  appearance  would 
scarcely  inspire  the  confidence  man  to  claim 
previous  acquaintance  with  its  owner  in  order 
to  investigate  its  contents  later. 

In  this  manner  protected  from  the  insinu- 
ating blandishments  of  the  "buncoes,"  and 
guided  by  his  native  shrewdness,  Dennis  finally 
found  accommodation  for  his  meager  impedi- 

[6] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

menta  in  an  unassuming  lodging-house  called 
The  Stag. 

This  establishment  reflected,  in  a  curious 
way,  the  demands  of  its  patrons. 

Almost  the  entire  first  floor  was  occupied 
by  the  glittering  details  of  a  seductive  barroom, 
through  which  one  was  compelled  to  pass,  chal- 
lenged on  every  side  by  alluring  labels,  before 
reaching  the  restaurant  immediately  in  the 
rear. 

Above,  the  floors  were  divided  into  numer- 
ous sleeping-rooms  barely  large  enough  to  ac- 
commodate a  bed,  washstand  and  one  chair — a 
sordid  ensemble,  unrelieved  by  any  other  wall 
decoration  than  the  inevitable  announcement: 
"This  way  to  the  fire  escape." 

By  a  singular  coincidence  which  would  have 
aroused  a  lively  emotion  in  the  moralist,  a  Bible 
occupied  a  small  shelf  directly  under  the  in- 
structions quoted  above. 

Dennis,  however,  was  too  weary  to  recog- 
nize the  grim  association,  and  shortly  after  his 
arrival  retired  for  the  night  to  recuperate  his 
energies  for  the  uncertainties  of  the  morrow. 

Awakening  at  dawn  with  a  sincere  hope  that 

CXJ 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

his  dreams  of  a  succession  of  disasters  were  not 
prophetic,  and,  despite  the  appeals  of  the  glit- 
ter and  the  labels  in  the  bar,  breakfasting  with 
his  customary  abstemiousness,  Dennis  issued 
from  The  Stag  with  a  determination  to  make 
the  effort  of  his  life  to  secure  employment. 

He  had  no  definite  plans  other  than  a  pro- 
found determination  to  resist  the  invitations  of 
Baxter  Street,  a  thoroughfare  congested  from 
end  to  end  with  innumerable  shops  devoted  to 
the  species  of  merchandizing  from  which  he 
had  so  recently  escaped. 

Here  his  talents  would  have  procured  for 
him  ready  recognition,  a  condition  which  deep- 
ened his  determination  to  avoid  all  possible 
contact  with  these  solicitous  sons  of  Shem. 

Beyond  a  singular  desire  to  enter  a  large 
publishing  house,  Dennis  had  no  idea  as  to 
the  direction  of  his  efforts. 

Aside  from  the  fact  that  books  held  an  un- 
accountable fascination  for  him,  he  could  not 
explain  this  predilection,  for  their  influence 
over  him  was  in  the  aggregate. 

He  loved  to  wander,  with  aimless  preoccu- 
pation, among  closely-packed  shelves,  and  in 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

pursuance  of  this  indirection  was  familiar  with 
the  interior  of  every  library  in  the  city  of  Phila- 
delphia. 

He  appeared  to  have  too  much  respect  for 
the  books  to  touch  them,  and  was  sufficiently 
in  awe  of  their  contents  not  to  attempt  to  read 
them. 

He  was  impressed  by  the  volume  of  things, 
and  had,  unsuspected  by  himself,  the  capacity 
of  the  bibliophile  to  detect  and  enjoy  the  subtle 
aroma  which  emanates  from  leaves  and  bind- 
ing. 

In  harmony,  therefore,  with  the  resolute 
quality  which  had  secured  to  him  what  success 
he  had  enjoyed  in  his  abandoned  business, 
Dennis  decided  to  exhaust  the  pleasing  possi- 
bilities presented  by  this  elevated  industry  be- 
fore applying  elsewhere. 

The  eclat  of  possible  authorship  did  not  in- 
fluence him,  despite  the  encouragement  afford- 
ed him  in  the  surprising  efforts  of  his  imagina- 
tion displayed  in  achievements  such  as  the 
following,  with  which  he  embellished  the  front 
of  his  father's  establishment: 

[9] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

This  Suit 

was 

$50 

and  cheap  at  that 
I'll  let  it  go  for 

$20 

and  so  on  indefinitely. 

Urged,  then,  by  the  advantages  which  lubri- 
cate the  lines  of  least  resistance,  and  stimulated 
by  that  clarion  phrase  in  his  unfailing  cam- 
paign document,  his  copy  of  Beaconsfield:  "I 
have  begun  many  things  many  times  and  have 
finally  succeeded,"  Dennis  presented  himself, 
about  ten  o'clock,  at  one  of  the  well-known 
publishing  houses. 

With  all  the  alarm  which  affects  the  fair 
debutente  at  a  court  presentation,  he  beheld 
the  confusing  labyrinth  of  counters,  depart- 
ment aisles  and  shelves,  which  combine  in  such 
a  depressing  suggestion  of  intellectual  pleth- 
ora and  transient  futility  in  this  famous  edi- 
fice. 

Advised  by  his  sensations,  Dennis  was  quite 
ready  to  assure  himself  that  he  had  entered  at 

[10] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    'SAPPHIRE 

the  wrong  portal,  and,  returning  to  the  street, 
he  discovered  that  the  building  concluded  upon 
a  rearway  congested  with  a  disorderly  array  of 
drays,  cases  and  porters. 

Encouraged  by  the  assurance  of  these  more 
familiar  surroundings,  Dennis  cast  an  anxious 
glance  about  him  to  discover  one  more  in  au- 
thority than  the  others. 

His  quest  was  given  direction  by  a  familiar 
accent. 

"Wake  up,  ye  lazy  divils!  It's  dhramin*  ye 
are  this  marnin'." 

Guided  by  the  sound,  Dennis  beheld  a  na- 
turally cheerful  Irishman  occupied  with  the 
double  task  of  assuming  an  austere  demeanor, 
and  quickening,  with  brisk  orders,  the  move- 
ments of  the  porters  under  his  direction. 

His  present  difficulties  mastered,  this  viva- 
cious master  of  ceremonies  turned  to  look,  with 
an  inquiring  glance,  upon  Dennis,  who  had 
presented  himself  to  the  attention  of  the  former 
with  the  unmistakable  appeal  of  the  candidate 
in  his  demeanor. 

"I  want  a  job,"  said  Dennis  simply. 

"Phwat?"   inquired   the   foreman   sharply, 

[11] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    'SAPPHIRE 

staring  at  the  mosaic  of  physiognomy  and  ac- 
cent embodied  in  Dennis. 

"I  want  a  job,"  repeated  Dennis.  "I  nade 
wurk." 

There  was  no  mistaking  the  peculiar  burr 
in  the  utterance  of  the  last  two  words,  but  the 
foreman  continued  to  regard  the  speaker  with 
suspicious  amazement. 

"Phwat  are  ye,  annyway?"  he  said  with 
guarded  brusqueness. 

"A  poor  man,  sir;  I  nade  wurk." 

"Oi  don't  mane  that,"  with  less  severity  at 
this  frank  acknowledgment;  "but  where  do  yez 
hail  from — Limerick  or  Jerusalem?" 

At  this  pointed  question,  which  promptly 
reminded  Dennis  of  the  singular  contradiction 
he  presented,  he  replied,  with  a  genuine  Celtic 
adroitness  that  had  an  immediate  effect  upon 
his  hearer: 

"Nayther;  I  got  off  at  the  midway  junc- 
tion." 

"Ha,  ha!"  laughed  the  foreman,  as  he  appre- 
ciated this  clever  explanation  of  the  singular 
compromise  presented  by  Dennis.  "Shure, 
that's  not  bad.  By  the  mug  ye  wear,  I  wud 

[12] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

advise  ye  to  go  to  Baxther  Street,  but  by  the 
sound  av  ye,  Oi  rickommind  th'  Broadway 
squad.  Wurrk,  is  it?  Why  don't  ye  presint 
that  face  at  th'  front?  I  hear  they're  shy  on 
editors." 

"Shure!"  said  Dennis,  who  believed  that  he 
was  progressing;  "but  the  only  things  I  iver 
wrote  were  store  signs." 

"Ah,  ha!"  replied  the  foreman,  "so  it's 
handy  with  th'  brush  ye  are." 

"Yes,"  answered  Dennis. 

"Wait  a  bit,"  said  the  foreman,  and  point- 
ing to  a  marking-outfit  he  directed  Dennis  to 
display  his  name  and  address  upon  a  smooth 
pine  board  which  he  provided  for  that  pur- 
pose: 

DENNIS  MULDOON, 
The  Stag  Hotel, 

Vesey  St., 

N.  Y. 

"Ah,  ha!"  cried  the  foreman  as  he  contrasted 
the  nanle  with  the  incongruous  face  of  the 
young  man  before  him,  "ye  don't  have  to  play 

C13J 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

it  on  a  flute,  annyway;  there's  nothin'  Sheeny; 
about  that."  Then,  directing  his  attention  to 
the  character  of  the  work  itself,  he  added: 
"That's  not  bad  at  all,  at  all.  See  here," 
he  said  abruptly,  as  he  picked  up  the  board 
which  Dennis  had  decorated  and  fastened  it 
to  the  warehouse  wall  with  a  nail,  "Oi'll 
kape  that  for  riferince.  Oh,  Oi  mane  it," 
he  said  with  gruff  assurance,  as  he  noted  the 
disappointment  which  shadowed  the  express- 
ive face  before  him;  "an'  mebbe  ye  won't  have 
to  wait  so  long,  nayther." 

"I  hope  not,"  said  Dennis  frankly. 

"Well,  ye  see,"  said  the  foreman,  "the  pris- 
int  incoombent  has  been  mixin'  too  much  red 
wid  his  paint,  an'  it  don't  wurrk." 

"You  mean  he  drinks?"  asked  Dennis  with 
humorous  inquiry. 

"Oi  do,"  replied  the  foreman;  "an'  now  that 
we  have  inthroduced  th'  subject,  excuse  a  per- 
sonal quistion:  Do  ye  wet  yure  whistle  in 
business  hours?" 

''No,"  answered  Dennis  promptly,  "nor  out 
of  them.  Father  attended  to  that  part  of  the 
business," 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

"Well,"  replied  the  foreman,  "Oi  can't  talk 
longer  wid  ye  this  marnin'.  Come  'round  be 
th'  ind  of  the  wake,"  and  dismissing  Dennis 
with  a  nod  he  withdrew  into  the  warehouse. 

The  main  feature  of  discouragement  which 
presented  itself  to  Dennis  as  he  left  this  locali- 
ty to  ponder  over  its  possibilities,  was  that  the 
end  of  the  week  was  five  days  off. 

This  was  serious. 

His  rupture  with  Muldoon,  senior,  had  left 
him  but  poorly  provided  with  linen  and  lucre; 
and  a  campaign  of  assault  upon  the  barricades 
of  prejudice  and  suspicion,  which  was  involved 
in  the  anxious  solicitude  of  the  man  seeking 
employment,  demanded  every  possible  acces- 
sory of  personal  appearance  and  a  reasonably 
equipped  commissariat. 

Anxious,  therefore,  to  subject  his  meager  re- 
sources to  the  least  strain  possible,  Dennis 
at  last  succeeded  in  securing,  in  one  of  the 
more  pretentious  stores  on  Baxter  Street,  a 
contrivance  for  the  relief  of  penury  and  thread- 
bare gentility  known  at  that  time  by  the  name 
of  "dickey." 

.This  convenience  consisted  in  a  series  of  three 

[15] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

shirt  bosoms  made  of  paper  to  resemble  the 
luxury  of  linen. 

When  the  surface  first  exposed  showed 
symptoms  of  soil  or  wear,  its  removal  revealed 
a  fresh  bosom  directly  under. 

Adjusted  to  his  waistcoat,  it  was  almost  im- 
possible to  detect  the  agreeable  sham,  which, 
under  favorable  auspices,  could  be  made  to 
last  for  a  week. 

Thus  equipped,  Dennis  proceeded  to  his 
hotel,  where,  after  according  the  cheerful  salu- 
tation of  the  industrious  barkeeper  the  ac- 
knowledgment of  a  lively  Irish  nod,  in  which 
there  was  both  fellowship  and  refusal,  he  pro- 
ceeded to  the  rear,  to  banquet  upon  whatever 
offered  the  most  for  his  money. 

During  the  two  days  succeeding,  Dennis, 
true  to  the  apprehensive  calculation  natural  to 
the  unemployed,  did  not  propose  to  rest  upon 
the  assurances  of  his  Irish  friend  in  the  pub- 
lishing house. 

Anything  untoward  might  occur. 

In  fact,  he  was  familiar  with  this  seamy  side 
of  Providence. 

He  had  been  so  often  misled  by  promises 

[16] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

that  it  was  only  his  wholesome  Celtic  faith  and 
prompt  capacity  to  rebound  which  kept  him 
from  becoming  entirely  blase. 

His  experience,  however,  left  him  alert.  So 
he  applied  industriously  at  various  establish- 
ments for  employment,  and  received  his  first 
lessons  in  the  courteous  duplicity  which  osten- 
tatiously files  the  application  for  future  refer- 
ence, and  the  cruel  kindness  of  frank  rebuff. 

On  the  morning  of  the  third  day  of  this 
futile  foray,  Dennis  noticed  that  the  exposed 
bosom  of  his  dickey  was  not  altogether  pre- 
sentable. 

It  appeared  to  have  registered  the  record  of 
his  applications  and  failures,  and,  as  such,  was 
not  a  good  campaign  document,  so  to  speak. 

Having  progressed  in  his  simple  toilet  up 
to  the  point  of  embellishment,  he  proceeded 
to  tear  away  the  soiled  surface,  and  in  doing 
so  discovered  not  only  the  clean  bosom  be- 
neath, but  that  the  rear  of  the  one  just  detached 
was  covered  with  a  block  of  minute  print. 

Drawing  the  solitary  chair  close  to  the  win- 
dow, he  read  by  the  light  of  early  dawn  the 
following  extraordinary  compilation. 


CHAPTER  II 

IN  the  city  of there  lived  one  Rodman 

Raikes,  unpopularly  known  as  the  "Fist." 

The  title,  however,  was  not  in  recognition  of 
personal  prowess,  for  no  more  cringing, 
evasive  creature  ever  existed. 

He  was  little  in  mind,  little  in  body,  and 
little  in  his  dealings. 

If  a  principle  could  ever  be  concrete,  Raikes 
was  the  embodiment  of  the  grasping  and  the 
uselessly  abstemious. 

He  appeared  to  shun  a  generous  sentiment 
as  one  would  avoid  an  infected  locality,  and 
usually  walked  with  head  tilted  and  body  bent 
as  if  engaged  in  following  a  clue  or  intent 
upon  the  search  of  some  stray  nickel. 

He  was  thoroughly  despised  by  all  who 
knew  him,  a  sentiment  which  he  returned  with 
vicious  interest,  and  never  neglected  an  oppor- 

[18] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

tunity  of  lodging  some  sneering  shaft  where 
it  would  cause  the  most  irritation. 

His  character  was  so  much  in  harmony  with 
these  generalizations  that  he  had  been  described 
as  dividing  his  laughter  into  chuckles — if  the 
strident  rasp  which  he  indulged  could  be  called 
by  that  name — in  order  that  it  might  last  the 
longer;  and  that  he  grinned  in  grudging  in- 
stalments. 

His  obvious  possession  was  an  entire  row 
of  brick  houses,  in  the  most  insignificant  of 
which  he  dwelt. 

Over  this  sparse  domicile  a  spinster  sister 
presided,  who  reflected,  on  compulsion,  in  the 
manner  of  a  sickly  moon,  the  attenuity  and 
shrivel  of  her  brother. 

A  nephew  of  Raikes'  completed  the  circuit. 

This  young  man  intruded  upon  this  strange 
household  an  aspect  so  curiously  at  variance 
with  that  of  his  rickety  elders  that  he  suggested 
to  the  fanciful  the  grim  idea  of  having  ex- 
hausted the  contents  of  the  larder  and  com- 
pelled the  other  two  to  shift  for  themselves. 

He  was,  in  the  eyes  of  the  disapproving 
Raikes,  offensively  plump;  an  example  of  in- 

[19] 


THE   FLAW   IN    THE    'SAPPHIRE 

credible  expenditure  applied  to  personal  grati- 
fication and  gluttonous  indulgence. 

The  miser  behaved  as  if  he  appeared  to  con- 
sider it  a  mark  of  studied  disrespect  to  be 
compelled  to  contrast  his  gaunt  leanness  with 
the  young  man's  embonpoint,  and  was  propi- 
tiated only  by  the  reflection  that  he  contributed 
in  no  way  to  his  nephew's  physical  dispropor- 
tion, since  the  latter  was  able  to  be  at  charges 
for  his  own  welfare  from  resources  derived 
from  steady  outside  employment. 

Adjoining  the  house  occupied  by  Raikes, 
and  connected  with  it  by  a  doorway  let  into 
the  wall,  was  a  series  of  three  dwellings  used 
as  a  boarding-establishment  by  a  widow  who 
had  seen  better  days  and  was  tireless  in  al- 
luding to  them. 

These  buildings  had  been  remodeled  to  com- 
municate with  each  other,  a  continuity  that 
concluded  with  the  Raikes  apartments. 

For  some  reason  this  miserable  man  pre- 
ferred to  occupy  the  portion  just  indicated  with 
no  other  tenants  than  his  gaunt  sister  and  the 
robust  Robert. 

This  arrangement  was  all  the  more  curious 

[20] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

from  the  fact  that  Raikes  made  no  attempt 
to  dispose  of,  in  fact,  strangely  resented  any 
suggestion  of  letting,  the  lower  floor  of  his 
end  of  the  row. 

That  one  of  his  avaricious  disposition  could 
thus  forego  such  a  prospect  of  advantage  was 
the  occasion  of  much  speculation. 

If  Robert  understood  he  gave  no  hint;  and 
if  the  boarders  on  the  other  side  of  the  par- 
tition indulged  in  curious  comment  they  re- 
frained from  doing  so  in  his  presence. 

The  suggestion  had  been  made  that  Raikes 
secreted  something  about  that  portion  of  the 
premises  he  occupied,  but  since  none  had  the 
courage  to  investigate  such  a  possibility,  the 
problems  it  created  were  permitted  to  pass 
unsolved  or  serve  to  tantalize  the  imagination. 

Regularly,  at  meal-time,  the  door  leading 
from  the  Raikes  apartment  would  open,  and 
the  mean  figure  of  the  miser,  after  presenting 
itself  for  one  hesitating,  suspicious  moment, 
would  slip  silently  through  and  subside  into 
a  near-by  chair  at  one  of  the  tables. 

Directly  after,  the  spinster  would  filter 
through  with  the  mien  of  an  apologetic  phan- 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

torn,  and  Raikes  at  once  established  the  basis 
of  indulgence  by  tentative  nibbles  of  this  and 
that,  which  were  almost  Barmecidian  in  their 
meagerness,  and  the  sister,  under  his  sordid 
supervision,  followed  his  miserable  example. 

With  singular  perversity,  in  the  midst  of 
reasonable  abundance,  he  forbore  to  accept  the 
full  measure  of  his  privileges. 

The  discipline  of  denial  was  essential  to  the 
austere  economies  he  practiced  in  all  other  di- 
rections, and  his  sister,  rather  than  submit  to 
the  hardness  of  his  rebukes,  acquiesced  with 
dismal  resignation. 

Robert  was  able  to  endure  the  table  be- 
havior of  his  uncle  no  more  than  the  others, 
and  so  occupied  a  seat  in  the  dining-room  sur- 
rounded by  more  agreeable  conditions. 

If  this  course  was  intended  as  a  diplomatic 
frankness  to  indicate  to  Raikes  that  his  nephew 
did  not  expect  a  legacy  to  follow  the  demise  of 
that  austere  relative,  no  one  could  determine. 

The  young  man,  however,  continued  to  sit 
in  whatever  portion  of  the  apartment  he 
pleased  and  enjoy  himself  as  much  as  the  han- 
dicap of  his  relationship  would  permit. 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

On  this  basis,  as  if  to  manifest  in  himself 
the  law  of  compensation,  Robert  grew  vicari- 
ously robust,  and  accepted,  with  cynical  good 
humor,  the  irritation  of  his  uncle  over  his 
adipose. 

Raikes  and  his  sister  had  the  table  at  which 
they  sat  entirely  to  themselves. 

Only  on  the  infrequent  occasions  of  conges- 
tion had  others  been  known  to  occupy  seats 
at  the  same  board. 

It  was  more  than  hungry  human  nature,  as 
embodied  in  most  of  the  inmates,  could  stand 
to  witness  this  exasperating  refusal  to  accept 
a  reasonable  measure  of  what  was  set  before 
them;  a  disability  to  which  the  scarcely  con- 
cealed scowls  of  the  exacting  miser  added  the 
chill  finishing  touch. 

One  morning,  however,  a  new  boarder  ar- 
rived. 

Accommodations  could  not  be  found  for  him 
at  the  other  tables,  and,  as  was  the  custom  of 
the  widow  under  such  circumstances,  he  was 
intruded  upon  the  society  of  this  morbid  duet, 
after  the  manner  of  his  predecessors, 

[**] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    'SAPPHIRE 

If  the  usual  rebellion  matured  at  such  asso- 
ciation on  the  part  of  this  recent  guest,  the 
landlady  expected  to  be  assisted  by  one  of 
those  vacancies  which  occur  with  such  incalcu- 
lable irregularity,  yet  reasonable  certainty,  in 
establishments  of  this  character. 

At  this  a  prompt  transfer  would  be  effected. 

This,  however,  was  an  unusual  boarder. 

If  his  presence  was  obnoxious  to  Raikes,  the 
latter  refused  to  realize  it;  if  the  miser  had 
his  peculiarities,  the  newcomer  did  not  see 
them. 

He  ate  his  meals  in  silence,  with  an  abstemi- 
ousness that,  unknown  to  himself,  recommend- 
ed him  as  cordially  as  any  consideration  might 
to  his  shriveled  table  companion ;  made  friend- 
ly overtures,  disguised  in  perfunctory  courte- 
sies, of  passing  the  bread  or  the  butter  when 
either  was  beyond  the  nervous  reach  of  the 
eccentric  Raikes,  and  ventured  an  impassive 
suggestion  or  two  as  to  the  probable  conduct 
of  the  weather. 

In  appearance  the  newcomer  was  startling. 

His  complexion  was  a  berry-brown;  his  ex- 

[24] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

pression,  aside  from  his  eyes,  was  singularly 
composed. 

These  were  uncommonly  black  and  piercing, 
and  peeped  from  receding  sockets  through 
heavy  eyebrows,  which  hung  like  an  ambush 
over  their  dart  and  gleam. 

His  nose  was  a  decisive  aquiline,  beneath 
which  his  lips,  at  once  firm  and  sensitive, 
pressed  together  changelessly. 

His  figure  was  tall  and  spare  and  usually 
clad  in  black,  a  habit  which  emphasized  his 
already  picturesque  countenance. 

There  was  an  indescribable  air  about  him 
which  suggested  event,  transpired  or  about  to 
transpire,  which  introduced  a  sort  of  eerie  dis- 
tinction to  the  commonplace  surroundings  in 
which  he  found  himself,  and  invited  many  a 
glance  of  curious  speculation  in  his  direction. 

All  this  was  not  without  its  effect  upon 
Raikes,  and  it  was  remarked,  with  the  aston- 
ishment the  occasion  justified,  that  the  miser, 
in  the  ensuing  days,  emerged  from  his  cus- 
tomary austerity  to  the  extent  of  reciprocal 
amenities  in  the  passage  of  bread  and  salt. 

However,  this  was  but  the  beginning. 

ran 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    'SAPPHIRE 

Raikes  discovered  himself,  at  last,  respond- 
ing, with  a  degree  of  chill  urbanity,  to  the 
advances  of  the  stranger,  and  ere  the  week  had 
concluded  had  assumed  the  initiative  in  conver- 
sation on  more  than  one  occasion. 

By  this  time  one  of  the  inevitable  vacancies 
had  occurred  at  another  table,  and  the  widow, 
as  usual,  offered  to  translate  this  latest  guest 
to  the  unoccupied  seat. 

The  latter,  however,  for  some  strange  rea- 
son, indicated  a  desire  to  remain  in  his  present 
surroundings,  and  when  this  disposition  was 
understood  by  Raikes,  the  conquest  of  the 
miser  was  complete. 

As  if  to  indorse  the  perverse  aspect  of  in- 
flexible things,  it  seemed,  now  that  Raikes  had 
ventured  ever  so  little  beyond  his  taciturn  de- 
fenses, he  was  encouraged  to  further  bold- 
ness. 

The  stranger  exerted  a  fascination  which, 
in  others,  Raikes  would  have  considered  dan- 
gerous and  which  he  would  have  made  his 
customary  instinctive  preparations  to  combat. 

He  could  not  recall  a  similar  instance  in 
all  the  years  of  his  recent  experience  when  he 

[26] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

was  constrained  to  recognize,  nay,  surrender 
to,  a  diffusive  impulse  such  as  this  curious 
stranger  awakened  in  his  mind. 

In  yielding  to  its  insinuations,  even  to  the 
extent  already  recorded,  he  was  agreeably  con- 
scious of  a  sort  of  guilty  abandon  which,  at 
times,  stupefies  the  moral  qualities  ere  deliver- 
ing them  into  the  hands  of  a  welcome  invader. 

For  some  time  Robert,  with  the  others,  had 
enjoyed  the  entertainment  offered  by  this 
transformation  of  Satyr  to  Faun,  and  the  in- 
version advanced  to  still  further  degrees  their 
curious  regard  of  the  "Sepoy,"  a  picturesque 
description  bestowed  upon  him  by  the  blase 
boarders. 

Consequently,  one  evening,  when,  at  the  con- 
clusion of  the  dinner,  the  "Sepoy,"  in  response 
to  the  invitation  of  Raikes,  was  seen  to  dis- 
appear with  the  latter  through  the  doorway 
which  led  to  his  apartments,  Robert's  interest 
in  the  spectacle  changed  to  genuine  alarm,  until 
a  moment's  reflection  upon  his  uncle's  well- 
known  ability  to  take  care  of  himself  reassured 
him. 

Intruding  the  door  between  themselves  and 

[27] 


all  further  speculation,  the  strangely-assorted 
pair  proceeded  along  a  dimly-illumed  hallway 
to  a  room  in  which  Raikes  usually  secluded 
himself. 

As  the  Sepoy  advanced,  he  could  see  that, 
with  the  exception  of  two  sleeping-chambers, 
revealed  by  their  open  doors,  the  apartment  in 
which  he  found  himself  was  the  only  one  where 
any  kind  of  accommodation  could  be  found, 
as  the  balance  of  the  house  offered  unmistaka- 
ble evidences  of  being  unoccupied. 

"Be  seated,  sir,"  croaked  Raikes,  with  a  voice 
strangely  suggestive  of  a  raven  attempting  the 
modulations  of  some  canary  it  had  swallowed. 
"I  do  not  smoke  myself,  and,  therefore,  can- 
not provide  you  with  that  sort  of  entertain- 
ment; still,  I  have  no  objection  to  you  enjoy- 
ing yourself  in  that  way  if,"  with  a  cynical 
shrug  of  the  shoulders  by  way  of  apology,  "you 
have  come  prepared." 

Accepting  this  frank  inhospitality  in  the 
spirit  of  its  announcement,  the  stranger,  smil- 
ing with  his  curious  eyes,  produced  two  cigars, 
one  of  which  he  offered  to  Raikes,  and  which 
was  consistently  and  promptly  refused. 

[28] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

"I  can't  afford  it,"  expostulated  the  latter. 
"I  never  indulge  myself  even  in  temptation; 
the  nearest  I  will  approach  to  dissipation  will 
be,  with  your  permission,  to  enjoy  the  aroma. 
I  do  not  propose  to  rebuke  myself  for  that." 

"As  you  please,"  returned  the  other  as  he 
replaced  the  weed  in  his  pocket.  "It  is  my 
one  indulgence;  in  other  respects  I  challenge 
any  man  to  be  more  abstemious." 

"I  have  had  none,"  returned  Raikes  with  a 
rasping  lack  of  emotion,  "for  the  last  ten  years. 
It  is  too  late  to  begin  to  cultivate  a  disability 
now." 

"You  are  wrong,"  replied  the  Sepoy.  "One's 
attitude  cannot  be  rigid  at  all  points;  that  is 
bad  management.  The  finest  tragedy  I  ever 
witnessed  was  emphasized  by  the  trivialities 
of  the  king's  jester. 

"However,"  he  added,  as  if  in  support  of 
his  theory,  "I  can,  at  least,  trouble  you  for  a 
match." 

While  Raikes  busied  himself  in  an  effort  to 
show  the  hospitality  of  the  service  indicated, 
the  Sepoy's  busy,  furtive  eyes  glanced  here  and 

[39] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

there  about  the  room  with  quick,  inquiring 
glances. 

At  one  end  a  bedstead  stood,  which  an  anti- 
quarian would  have  accepted  gladly  as  col- 
lateral for  a  loan. 

Near-by  a  wardrobe,  equally  remote  if  more 
decrepit,  leaned  against  the  wall  to  maintain 
the  balance  jeopardized  by  a  missing  foot. 

One  chair,  in  addition  to  those  occupied  by 
Raikes  and  his  companion,  appeared  to  extend 
its  worn  arms  with  a  weary  insistence  and 
dusty  disapproval  of  their  emptiness. 

A  table,  large  enough  to  accommodate  a 
student's  lamp,  several  account  books  and  a 
blotting-pad,  completed  this  uninviting 
galaxy. 

To  the  walls,  however,  the  Sepoy  directed 
his  closest  scrutiny. 

With  an  incredibly  rapid  glance  he  surveyed 
every  possible  inch  of  space,  turning  his  head 
cautiously  to  enable  his  eyes  to  penetrate  into 
the  more  distant  portions. 

Presently,  after  an  amount  of  rummaging 
altogether  disproportionate  to  the  nature  of 
his  quest,  Raikes  succeeded  in  finding  a  lucifer, 

[30] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

which  flared  with  a  reluctance  characteristic 
of  the  surroundings. 

The  Sepoy,  availing  himself  of  its  blaze,  de- 
posited the  remainder  of  the  stick,  with  elab- 
orate carefulness,  upon  the  table,  as  if  urged 
by  the  thought  that  his  companion  might  con- 
vert it  to  further  uses. 

As  Raikes  resumed  his  chair,  the  Sepoy,  re- 
calling his  glances  from  their  mysterious  foray, 
directed  them,  with  curious  obliqueness,  upon 
his  companion. 

In  no  instance  that  Raikes  could  recall  had 
the  Sepoy  looked  upon  him  directly  save  in 
fleeting  flashes. 

At  such  moments  Raikes  was  conscious  of 
a  strange  tremor,  a  vanishing  fascination,  that 
he  vainly  sought  to  duplicate  by  attracting 
the  other's  attention,  in  order  to  analyze  its 
peculiar  influence. 

"May  I  ask,"  he  ventured  after  a  few  in- 
halations of  his  vicarious  smoke,  "may  I  ask 
the  nature  of  your  business?" 

"Surely,"  replied  the  other.  "I  am  a  col- 
lector." 

[31] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    'SAPPHIRE 

"Of  what?"  inquired  Raikes,  dissatisfied 
with  the  ambiguity  of  the  answer. 

"Sapphires,"  said  the  Sepoy. 

"Ah!"  cried  Raikes. 

"Yes,"  continued  the  other,  regarding  the 
kindling  glance  of  the  avaricious  Raikes  with 
a  quick,  penetrating  look  that  was  not  with- 
out its  effect  upon  the  latter;  "yes,  and  I  have 
had  many  beautiful  specimens  in  my  time." 

"But  where  is  your  establishment?"  asked 
Raikes. 

"Wherever  I  chance  to  be,"  was  the  reply. 

"Still,"  ventured  Raikes,  astonished  at  this 
curious  rejoinder,  "you  have  some  safe  deposi- 
tory for  such  valuables." 

"Doubtless,"  replied  the  other  drily;  "but  I 
have  a  few  in  my  room  now,  and,  by  the  way, 
they  are  pretty  fair  specimens." 

"All!"  cried  Raikes.    "May  I  see  them?" 

"Why  not?"  assented  the  Sepoy.  "In  the 
meantime,"  he  continued,  as  he  inserted  his 
hand  in  his  waistcoat  pocket,  "what  do  you 
think  of  this?"  and  describing  a  glittering  semi- 
circle in  the  air  with  some  brilliant  object  he 
held  in  his  grasp,  he  deposited  upon  the  table 

[32] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

a  sapphire  of  such  extraordinary  size  and 
beauty,  that  Raikes,  able  as  he  was  to  realize 
the  great  value  of  this  gleaming  condensation, 
stared  stupidly  at  it  for  a  moment,  and  then, 
with  a  cry  of  almost  gibbering  avarice,  caught 
the  gem  in  his  trembling  hands  and  burglar- 
ized it  with  his  greedy  eyes. 

As  Raikes,  oblivious  of  all  else,  continued 
to  gaze  upon  the  brilliant  with  repulsive  fas- 
cination, a  peculiar  change  transformed  the 
face  of  the  Sepoy. 

He  directed  upon  the  unconscious  counte- 
nance of  his  companion  a  glance  of  terrible  in- 
tensity, moving  his  hands  the  while  in  a  weird, 
sinuous  rhythm,  until  presently,  satisfied  with 
the  vacant  expression  which  had  replaced  the 
eager  look  of  the  moment  before  in  the  eyes 
of  the  tremulous  Raikes,  the  Sepoy  began,  with 
an  indescribably  easy,  somnolent  modulation, 
the  following  strange  recital: 

(To  be  continued  on  Dickey  No.  2.) 

"Thunder  and  lightning!"  cried  Dennis  as 
[33] 


he  reached  the  exasperating  announcement  in 
italics  at  the  bottom  of  the  dickey  back : 

"Continued  on  Dickey  No.  2." 

"What  th'  div — now,  what  do  you  think  of 
that?  An'  it's  me  crazy  to  hear  what  that  meer- 
schaum-colored divil  was  a-goin'  to  say. 
'Dickey  No.  2.'  Why,  that's  the  one  I  have  to 
wear  to-day,  an'  to  think  the  story's  on  the 
back  of  it." 

Truly  was  Dennis  harassed. 

He  had  been  in  many  a  pickle  before,  but 
never  in  one  quite  so  exasperating. 

Tantalized,  in  the  first  place,  by  the  uncer- 
tainty surrounding  his  prospective  employ- 
ment, he  was  now  confronted  by  a  predicament 
which  threatened  to  jeopardize  a  vital  adjunct 
to  his  personal  appearance. 

A  native  curiosity,  to  which  this  outrageous 
tale  appealed  so  strenuously,  prompted  him  to 
detach  bosom  No.  2  regardless. 

An  equally  characteristic  thrift  warned  him 
against  such  an  inconsiderate  procedure. 

Finally  his  good  judgment  prevailed,  and 
with  desperate  haste  he  adjusted  the  remain- 
ing bosoms  of  the  dickey  to  his  waistcoat, 

[34] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

plunged  into  his  coat,  clapped  his  hat  on  his 
head  and  rushed  from  the  room. 

All  that  day  Dennis  continued  to  receive  his 
instalments  of  that  bitter  instruction  in  the 
ways  of  heedless  employers  and  suspicious 
subordinates  which,  eased  by  a  native  good 
humor,  conclude  in  the  philosopher,  or,  unre- 
lieved by  this  genial  mollient,  develop  the 
cynic. 

By  evening  he  was  compelled  to  admit,  as 
he  retraced  his  steps  to  The  Stag,  that  he  had 
not  advanced  in  any  way. 

As  he  was  about  to  pass  under  one  of  the 
dripping  extensions  of  the  elevated,  a  great 
splotch  of  grease  detached  itself  from  the  iron- 
work and  struck,  with  unerring  precision,  di- 
rectly in  the  center  of  dickey  No.  2. 

"Ah!"  exclaimed  Dennis  as  he  realized  the 
nature  of  his  mishap,  "that  settles  it;  I'll  know 
what  the  Sepoy  said  to-night."  A  remark 
which  proved  conclusively  that  the  philoso- 
phical element  was  still  uppermost  in  the  mind 
of  this  young  Irishman. 

After  a  brief  exchange  of  courtesies  with 
his  countryman  behind  the  bar,  and  a 

[35] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

so  modest  in  the  rear  room  as  to  arouse  the 
suspicion  and  encourage  the  displeasure  of  the 
waiter,  Dennis  hastened  up  the  stairway,  di- 
vested himself  of  his  upper  garments,  ripped 
off  dickey  bosom  No.  2,  and  began. 


[36] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 


CHAPTER  III 

As  THE  Sepoy  proceeded,  Raikes  leaned  for- 
ward in  an  attitude,  the  discomfort  and  un- 
balance of  which  he  seemed  to  be  entirely 
unaware. 

His  only  means  of  maintaining  his  rigid 
poise  was  in  the  arm  which  lay,  with  tense 
unrest,  upon  the  table. 

From  his  hand,  the  fingers  of  which  had 
released  their  clutch,  the  stone  had  rolled  and 
gleamed  an  unregarded  invitation  into  the  eyes 
of  the  drawn  face  above  it. 

The  sickly  grin  of  a  long-delayed  relaxation 
beguiled  the  extremities  of  his  mouth,  the  grim 
lips  had  relaxed  their  ugly  partnership,  and 
his  entire  figure  seemed  upon  the  verge  of 
collapse. 

Raikes  was  listening  as  never  before. 

The  clink  of  coin,  the  dry  rattle  and  abrasion 
of  brilliants,  the  rustle  of  bank  notes  could  not 

[37] 


have  fascinated  him  more  than  the  even,  som- 
nolent modulations  of  the  speaker. 

Every  word  found  easy  lodgment  in  his  con- 
sciousness. There  was  not  a  sound  or  motion 
to  divert,  and  the  tale  was  a  strange  one. 

"Ram  Lai,"  said  the  Sepoy,  "was  a  native 
merchant,  trading  between  Meerut  and  Delhi, 
who  decided  to  sacrifice  the  dear  considerations 
of  caste  for  the  grosser  conditions  of  gain. 

"From  the  performance  of  mean  and  illy- 
rewarded  services  to  his  patron,  Prince  Otondo, 
Ram  Lai  had  developed,  with  the  characteris- 
tic patience  and  dangerous  silence  of  the  true 
Oriental,  to  a  figure  of  some  importance,  whom 
it  was  a  satisfaction  for  the  prince  to  contem- 
plate with  a  view  to  future  exaction  and  levy 
as  occasion  demanded. 

"His  royal  master  resided  in  the  Kutub,  a 
palace  situated  not  far  from  Delhi  on  the  road 
to  Meerut. 

"This  pretentious  edifice,  which  had  been  es- 
tablished in  the  thirteenth  century  and  which 
still  presented,  in  some  of  its  unrepaired  por- 
tions, curious  features  of  the  bizarre  architec- 

[38] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

ttire  of  that  period,  had  been  the  dwelling  place 
of  a  long  line  of  ancient  moghuls. 

"Its  present  incumbent,  however,  regarded 
with  indifference  the  ravages  of  time  and  de- 
cay, and  satisfied  himself  with  the  lavish  fur- 
nishing of  that  considerable  portion  of  the 
palace  which  he  occcupied  with  his  dusky  re- 
tainers. 

"To  be  at  charges  for  all  this  the  princely 
revenues  had  been  seriously  depleted. 

"Since  he  could  not  look  to  decrepit  rela- 
tives in  Delhi  for  further  allowances,  and  as 
the  British  Government  proved  equally  obdu- 
rate, the  prince  found  it  necessaiy  to  calculate 
upon  all  possible  sources  of  income. 

"In  such  speculations,  therefore,  the  un- 
happy Ram  Lai  became  an  object  of  logical 
interest. 

"Up  to  the  present  the  merchant  had  been 
undisturbed  in  the  security  of  his  possessions, 
which  were  suspected  to  be  enormous. 

"His  royal  patron  had  contented  himself 
with  the  avarice  of  calculation,  and,  in  order 
that  his  depredations  might  be  worthy  his  pro- 
posed brigandage,  he  provided  Ram  Lai  with 

[39] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    'SAPPHIRE 

every  opportunity  to  develop  his  hoard  to  a 
respectable  figure. 

"The  prince,  having  enjoyed  the  advantages 
of  association  with  sundry  British  officials,  was 
entirely  too  sagacious  and  philosophical  to  dis- 
courage the  industry  of  the  merchant  at  the 
outset ;  and  with  the  patience  which  is  enabled 
to  foresee  the  end  from  the  beginning,  he 
awaited  developments. 

"In  consequence,  the  merchant  attained  to 
everything  but  the  ostentation  of  his  posses- 
sions, and  only  assumed  the  dignity  of  his 
riches  in  the  less  calculating  confines  of  his 
household. 

"Even  here,  however,  the  subsidy  of  his  liege 
was  active,  for  among  the  servants  of  the  mer- 
chant were  those  whose  appraising  eyes  fol- 
lowed every  movement,  and  whose  mercenary 
memories  recorded  every  transaction. 

"With  all  the  concern  of  a  silent  partner 
Prince  Otondo  balanced,  in  his  philosophical 
mind,  the  various  enterprises  of  Ram  Lai. 

"If  they  met  with  his  august  approval,  the 
merchant's  traffic  was  singularly  free  from  ob- 
struction; if  the  element  of  uncertainty  was 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

too  pronounced  for  the  apprehensive  poten- 
tate, the  most  surprising  occasions  for  the 
abandonment  of  his  projects  were  developed 
for  Ram  Lai,  whose  intelligent  mind  was  in- 
clined to  suspect  the  identity  of  his  providence. 

"Prince  Otondo  did  not  propose  to  have  his 
interests  jeopardized  by  precipitation  or  undue 
hazard. 

"But  this  unhappy  merchant,  with  perverse 
and  unaware  industry,  advanced  still  another 
claim  to  the  covert  regard  of  his  calculating 
highness. 

"Although  a  widower,  there  remained,  to 
remind  him  of  his  departed  blessedness,  a 
daughter,  who  was,  as  reported  by  the  mercen- 
aries of  the  prince,  beautiful  beyond  their 
limited  means  of  expression. 

"The  unfortunate  Ram  Lai,  therefore,  com- 
mending himself  to  this  elevated  espionage, 
first  by  his  'ducats'  and  next  his  'daughter,'  was 
in  the  predicament  of  the  missionary  whose 
embonpoint  endears  him  to  his  savage  congre~ 
gation  and  whose  edibility  is  convincing  enough 
to  arouse  the  regret  that  he  is  not  twins. 

"Prince    Otondo,    whose   imagination   was 

1*1] 


stimulated  by  this  vicarious  contemplation  of 
beauty,  did  not  find  it  difficult  to  decide  that 
the  transits  of  Ram  Lai  to  and  from  the  Brit- 
ish barracks  were  open  to  suspicion  that  de- 
manded some  biased  investigation. 

"Unfortunately,  too,  the  colonel  in  charge 
of  the  British  forces  at  Delhi  was  equally  un- 
easy concerning  the  integrity  of  the  merchant, 
a  state  of  mind  which  had  been  judiciously  ag- 
gravated by  the  emissaries  of  Prince  Otondo. 

"The  officer  in  charge  knew  that  the  mer- 
chant, with  his  license  of  exit  and  entry,  was 
in  an  exceptional  position  to  acquaint  himself 
with  considerable  merchandizable  information. 

"Ram  Lai,  therefore,  in  response  to  the  per- 
nicious industry  of  his  evil  genius,  like  an 
unstable  pendulum,  was  in  danger  of  detention 
at  either  extreme. 

"The  prince  speculated  like  a  Machiavelli 
upon  the  advantages  of  such  action  on  the  part 
of  the  colonel,  and  the  latter  looked  to  the 
former  to  relieve  him  of  the  responsibility. 

"However,  diligence,  even  when  baneful, 
has  its  rewards,  for  one  day,  when  Ram  Lai 
arrived  at  the  British  horn  of  the  dilemma,  he 

[4*1 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

was  arrested  upon  a  charge  framed  to  suit  the 
emergency  and  subjected  to  a  military  court 
of  investigation. 

"At  the  end  of  eight  days  the  merchant  was 
released,  acquitted,  and  on  the  ninth  he  directed 
his  course  homeward. 

"The  colonel,  however,  had  provided  the 
prince  with  his  opportunity,  for  when  the  irri- 
tated merchant  arrived  at  his  dwelling,  he  was 
informed  that  sundry  officials  from  the  palace 
had  searched  the  premises  for  evidence  of  sedi- 
tion, and,  failing  in  that,  had  decided  to  accept 
all  of  his  portable  chattels  as  a  substitute. 

"This  was  depressing  enough,  but  still  might 
have  been  accepted  with  the  customary  Orien- 
tal impassiveness  had  it  not  been  for  the  fact 
that  the  marauders  had  added  his  daughter  to 
the  collection. 

"At  any  rate,  she  could  not  be  found,  and 
as  she  had  never  ventured  from  the  shelter  of 
the  paternal  roof  without  the  paternal  consent, 
Ram  Lai  felt  that  his  deductions  as  to  her 
whereabouts  were  entitled  to  consideration. 

"He  was  unable  to  get  any  indorsement  of 

[43] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

his  unhappy  logic,  for  the  servants  had  all  dis- 
appeared. 

"He  determined,  however,  to  act  in  accord- 
ance with  his  assumption,  and  after  taking  an 
inventory  of  whatever  had  been  overlooked  in 
the  foray,  which  was  little  else  than  the 
premises,  he  seated  himself  upon  a  mat  beneath 
a  banyan  tree  in  the  garden,  which  concluded 
the  rear  of  his  dwelling,  and  was  presently  ells- 
deep  in  a  profound  reflection,  which  was  not 
only  ominous  in  its  outward  calm,  but  curiously 
prolonged. 

"The  only  evidence  of  mental  disquiet  which, 
it  was  natural  to  suspect,  disturbed  him,  was  a 
strange  light  which  gleamed  from  his  eyes  at 
intervals  with  baleful  significance. 

"At  the  conclusion  of  two  oblivious  hours 
Ram  Lai  appeared  to  have  arrived  at  some 
definite  purpose. 

"He  rose  to  his  feet  and  strode,  with  a 
marked  degree  of  decision,  to  his  dwelling, 
where  he  slept  in  apparent  and  paradoxical 
peace  until  morning. 

"Ere  the  sky  was  red,  or  the  dews,  in  har- 
monv  with  this  unhappy  man's  dilemma,  had 

[44] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

been  appropriated  by  the  sun  from  the  tiara 
of  dawn,  Ram  Lai  set  out  for  the  palace  of 
the  Kutub,  in  which  Prince  Otondo  was  com- 
pelled to  reside  for  the  present  for  some  very 
convincing  reasons  provided  by  the  British 
Government. 

"In  a  little  while  the  merchant  had  traversed 
the  short  distance  intervening  and  was  admit- 
ted through  the  courtyard  gates. 

"The  last  of  the  kings  of  Delhi  was  a  de- 
crepit old  man  named  Dahbur  Dhu,  whose  sole 
object  in  life  seemed  to  be  an  attempt  to  re- 
animate the  pomp  and  pageantry  of  a  dead 
dynasty. 

"Pensioned  by  the  British  Government, 
which  permitted  him  to  continue  this  absurd 
travesty,  if  his  feeble  exasperation  over  his 
predicament  and  his  silly  ostentations  could  be 
called  by  that  name,  this  realmless  potentate 
occupied  his  waking  hours  in  futile  revilings 
of  the  hand  that  at  once  smote  and  sustained 
him. 

"While  not  thus  engaged,  he  would  gravi- 
tate almost  to  the  extreme  of  servility  in  his 
efforts  to  exact  additional  largess  from  the 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

powers  in  control,  to  expend  upon  this  senile 
attempt  to  augment  the  consideration  of  his 
pageant  throne. 

"Several  efforts  had  already  been  made  to 
remove  the  irritating  presence  of  this  royal 
household  to  Bengal,  but  the  time  had  not  yet 
arrived  when  the  British  could  regard  with 
indifference  the  native  prejudice  which  would 
be  aroused  by  such  a  procedure. 

"The  infirm  moghul,  therefore,  continued  his 
vaudeville,  which  was  mainly  confined  within 
the  palace  walls  at  Delhi,  and  persisted  in  his 
endeavors  to  augment  his  revenues. 

"However,  to  mitigate  the  nuisance  as  far 
as  possible,  the  British  Government  consented 
to  recognize  his  grandson,  Prince  Otondo,  as 
the  successor  to  the  throne,  and  yield  a  degree 
to  the  exactions  of  the  moghul  if  his  young 
kinsman  would  agree  to  remove  himself  perma- 
nently from  Delhi  and  reside  in  the  Kutub. 

"To  this,  for  a  reason  which  shortly  tran- 
spired with  almost  laughable  incongruity,  Dah- 
bur  Dhu  assented,  and  Prince  Otondo  estab- 
lished himself  at  this  royal  residence  with  an 
outward  manifestation  of  satisfaction,  at  least. 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

"Despite  the  fact  that  the  merchant  was  a 
familiar  figure  in  this  enclosure,  he  believed 
that  he  remarked  an  unusual  degree  of  inter- 
est awakened  by  his  presence,  and  was  assured 
that  he  detected  more  than  one  sinister  and 
smiling  glance  directed,  with  covert  insinua- 
tion, upon  his  impassive  countenance. 

"An  uneasy  suggestion  of  conspiracy  met 
him  at  every  turn. 

"With  that  gravid  apprehension  which 
creates  in  advance  the  very  conditions  one  de- 
sires to  combat,  Ram  Lai  prepared  himself 
for  a  series  of  events  which  made  him  shudder 
to  contemplate. 

"It  seemed  to  him  that  the  salutes  of  the 
swarthy  satellites  of  the  prince  were  a  degree 
less  considerate. 

"He  was  convinced  of  a  cynical  estimation 
usually  accorded  to  the  destitute. 

"The  depression  of  disaster  was  upon  him. 

"He  could  only  think  in  the  direction  of  his 
forebodings,  so  when  at  last  he  arrived  in  the 
familiar  ante-chamber  and  announced  himself, 
his  voice  reflected  his  trepidation  and  his  de- 

[47] 


meaner  had  lost  a  palpable  degree  of  its  cus- 
tomary assurance. 

"While  the  merchant  awaited  the  response 
to  his  request  for  an  audience  with  the  prince, 
he  made  a  sorry  attempt  to  assume  a  cheerful 
aspect,  with  the  success  of  one  who  is  permitted 
to  listen  to  the  details  of  his  own  obsequies. 

"When  not  thus  engaged,  he  traversed  the 
apartment  with  intermittent  strides — another 
Chryses  about  to  make  a  paternal  plea  to  this 
Oriental  Agamemnon. 

"He  had  canvassed  his  demeanor,  reviewed 
his  cautious  phrases,  and  had  even  provided  a 
desperate  denunciation,  which,  when  he  con- 
sidered the  privileged  rascality  of  his  royal 
auditor,  he  felt  assured  would  at  once  conclude 
the  interview  and  his  liberty. 

"As  Ram  Lai  was  about  to  end  his  fifth  at- 
tempt to  apprehend  the  result  of  this  expected 
interview,  the  curtains  parted  and  a  stalwart 
attendant,  impassive  and  silent,  appeared. 

"In  response  to  the  eloquent  concern  be- 
trayed in  the  glance  of  the  merchant,  the  other, 
holding  the  curtains  aside,  indicated,  by  an 
inclination  of  his  turbaned  head  and  a  sweep  of 

[48] 


his  hand,  the  dignity  of  which  was  intended  to 
convey  some  intimation  of  the  personality  of 
his  master  and  the  proportions  of  the  privi- 
leges accorded,  that  the  merchant  was  expected 
to  proceed,  which  he  did  with  trembling  pre- 
cipitation. 

"As  Ram  Lai  entered  the  room,  his  alert 
glance  discerned  the  figure  of  the  prince  ex- 
tended, with  unceremonious  abandon,  upon  a 
divan. 

"Advancing,  he  made  profound  obeisance  to 
the  reclining  potentate,  who  acknowledged  his 
presence  with  a  spiritless  motion  of  his  hand 
not  unsuggestive  of  the  humiliating  degree  of 
his  condescension. 

"At  this  period  of  his  career  Prince  Otondo 
presented,  in  his  personality  and  surroundings, 
considerable  of  the  picturesque  magnificence 
with  which  the  native  rulers  delighted  to  sur- 
round themselves. 

"His  presence,  at  once  dignified  and  care- 
lessly amiable,  was  not  the  least  vital  accessory 
to  the  sumptuous  abundance,  to  which  he  added 
the  last  touch  of  distinction. 

"A  smiling  cynicism,  which  was  one  of  his 

[49]. 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

most  engaging  characteristics  and  an  invalua- 
ble masquerade  for  his  genuine  sentiments,  lin- 
gered about  his  thin,  patrician  lips. 

"His  features  balanced  with  cameo  precision, 
and  in  his  eyes,  usually  veiled  by  lashes  effemi- 
nately long,  the  whole  gamut  of  a  passionate, 
intolerant  nature  was  expressed. 

'Well,  most  ancient  and  honorable  !'  said 
the  prince,  with  an  exasperating  suggestion  in 
his  manner  of  appreciation  of  the  travesty  of 
his  words,  as  he  gazed  upon  the  merchant  with 
a  glance  whose  speculation  the  latter  could  not 
determine.  'Well,  how  speeds  thy  traffic  and 
thrive  thy  caravans  V 

'  'Not  well,  my  lord,'  answered  Ram  Lai, 
'not  well.' 

'  'Ah,  ha!'  exclaimed  the  prince,  with  an  in- 
describable insinuation  of  biased  rebuke  in  the 
look  with  which  he  challenged  further  revela- 
tions from  the  speaker.  'That  touches  me 
nearly;  this  must  not  be;  an  industrious  sub- 
ject may  not  suffer  while  there  is  a  remedy  at 
hand.' 

'Tis  on  that  head  I  would  beseech  your 
majesty!'  exclaimed  the  merchant,  seizing  the 

[50] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

opportunity  provided,  with  such  plausible  in- 
genuousness, by  the  august  speaker. 

'  'Proceed,  Ram  Lai,'  urged  the  prince,  with 
an  amiability  which  the  merchant  had  known 
to  be  a  dangerous  prelude  in  the  past. 

'  'Great  prince !'  replied  the  merchant  with 
the  prompt  obedience  which  contemplates  a 
possible  reversal  of  privilege. 

'  'Nine  days  from  home  I  strayed. 

'  'On  my  return  I  find  my  house  despoiled 
of  all  its  store. 

*  'And  with  the  rest,  O  prince,  the  priceless 
tokens  of  thy  high  regard. 

'  'Aside  from  these,  I  do  not  mourn  my  loss, 
for  it  may  be  repaired. 

'  'Nor  will  I  question  fate,  whose  ears  are 
dull  to  hear,  whose  eyes  refuse  to  see  the  vic- 
tims of  her  spleen. 

'  'But  hear,  O  prince — my  one  ewe  lamb,  my 
sole  delight — my  daughter  greets  me  not. 

'The  empty  halls  no  more  re-echo  to  her 
tread. 

'  'No  more  sweet  mur ' 

'  'Enough,  Ram  Lai,'  interrupted  the 
prince.  'I  have  heard  that  a  needle  thrust  into 

[51] 


the  eye  of  a  bullfinch  will  make  it  sing,  but  I 
did  not  know  that  misery  could  transform  a 
merchant  to  a  bard. 

*  'Disjoint  your  phrases  a  degree.  You  say 
your  daughter  greets  you  not?' 

'Yes,  O  prince,'  replied  Ram  Lai,  abashed 
at  this  cynical  embargo  upon  the  melancholy 
luxury  of  his  rhythms ;  'yes,  and  it  is  of  her  I 
would  speak.' 

'  'Speak,'  urged  his  august  hearer. 

"After  a  moment's  reflection,  in  the  man- 
ner of  the  unwelcome  envoy  who  has  reached 
the  acute  juncture  of  his  recital  and  is  about 
to  disembarrass  himself  of  a  dangerous  climax, 
the  merchant  continued  in  sordid  Hindustani: 

'  'As  I  have  said,  O  prince,  my  daughter 
has  been  taken  from  me,  and  I  come  to  you 
in  my  extremity.' 

'  'And  why  to  me,  Ram  Lai?'  demanded 
the  prince,  with  a  gleam  in  his  glance  which 
was  directly  responsible  for  the  pacific  presen- 
tation which  followed. 

'  'Because,'  replied  the  merchant  with  dis- 
cerning irreverence,  'if  it  so  please  your  high- 

[52] 


THE    FLAlfc    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

ness,  your  providence  is  practical,  and  the  ways 
of  Vishnu  are  tedious.' 

*  'Ah!'  exclaimed  the  prince  appreciatively; 
'that  was  not  so  bad  for  a  merchant;  but  to 
the  point.' 

'  'Little  can  occur  in  this  cantonment  that 
is  not  known  to  your  highness,  or  that  cannot 
be  determined  if  you  so  desire. 

'  'I  ask  your  august  assistance,  and  I  have, 
as  you  will  see,  observed  the  proprieties  in 
making  my  request. 

'  'It  is  a  time-honored  custom  for  the  sup- 
pliant to  signalize  his  appreciation  of  the  im- 
portance of  the  favor  he  solicits,  is  it  not  so?' 

'  'I  did  not  know,'  replied  the  prince,  'that 
commerce  could  develop  such  an  oracle;  it  is  a 
subtle  sense  of  fitness  you  express.  I  am  in- 
terested. Proceed.' 

'  'I  will,  your  highness,'  responded  Ram 
Lai,  as  he  inserted  his  hand  in  one  of  the  folds 
of  the  sash  which  encircled  his  waist.  'You 
recall  the  stone  of  Sardis?' 

'  'Ah !'  exclaimed  the  prince,  his  cynical  list- 
lessness  transformed  at  once  into  the  abandon 
of  eagerness.  'What  of  it,  O  merchant?' 

[53] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

''  'This,'  replied  the  latter  as  he  withdrew  his 
hand  from  his  sash,  'if  your  highness  will  deign 
to  examine  it/  and  the  speaker  extended  to- 
ward the  incredulous  prince  a  small  box  of 
shagreen,  which  the  latter  clutched  with  the 
grasp  of  avarice. 

;  'Will  his  highness  deign?'  repeated  Ram 
Lai  to  himself  with  bitter  irony  as  the  prince 
pressed  back  the  lid  and  exposed  to  view  a 
magnificent  sapphire,  the  gleam  and  the  glitter 
of  which  affected  him  like  an  intoxication. 

"As  the  prince,  oblivious  to  all  else,  fixed  his 
avid  glance  upon  the  scintillant  stone,  an  as- 
tonishing change  transformed  the  merchant 
from  the  suppliant  to  a  being  of  marked 
dignity  of  bearing  and  carriage. 

"His  eyes,  no  longer  obliquely  observant, 
were  directed  with  baleful  purpose  upon  the 
half-closed  lids  of  the  fascinated  potentate. 

"His  hand  disengaged  itself  from  the  sash, 
where  it  had  reposed  with  something  of  the 
suggestion  of  a  guardian  of  the  treasury,  and 
was  gradually  extended  with  sinuous  menace 
over  the  declining  head  of  the  prince. 

"His  long,  lithe  figure  straightened  from  its 

[54] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

servile  stoop,  and  a  palpable  degree  of  the 
authority  which  appeared  gradually  to  fade 
from  the  fine  countenance  before  him  found 
an  equally  congenial  residence  in  the  expres- 
sion of  the  merchant. 

"There  was  command  in  every  feature. 

"As  for  the  prince,  his  figure  appeared  to 
decline  in  majesty  in  proportion  to  the  access 
of  dignity  which  had  added  its  unwonted  em- 
phasis to  the  personality  of  Ram  Lai. 

"He  leaned  inertly  forward,  one  hand  rest- 
ing upon  his  knee. 

"In  his  slowly  relaxing  clutch  the  brilliant 
gleamed.  His  forehead  was  moist;  his  lips 
dry;  his  delicate  nostrils  were  indrawn  in  har- 
mony with  the  concentrating  lines  of  his  brow, 
and  the  next  moment,  as  if  in  response  to  an 
insinuating  pass  of  the  merchant's  hand  of 
cobra-like  undulation,  the  rigid  poise  recoiled, 
he  settled  more  easily  upon  the  divan,  and  with 
eyes  still  fascinated  by  the  entrancing  bauble 
he  listened,  with  anomalous  impassiveness,  to 
the  weird  proposal  of  Ram  Lai. 
'  'Hearken,  O  prince! 

[55] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

"  'My  daughter  has  been  taken  from  me  by 
whom  I  shall  not  venture  to  inquire. 

'  'If  she  is  returned  to  me,  I  shall  be  satis- 
fied. 

'  'I  am  here  therefore  to  beseech  your  high- 
ness to  see  that  she  is  restored  to  me. 

;  'To-day,  as  the  sun  declines,  I  shall  expect 
her. 

'  'If  she  does  not  come  to  me  then,  O  prince, 
a  heaping  handful  of  the  precious  stones  you 
hold  so  dearly  will  be  missing,  and  in  their 
stead  will  be  as  many  pebbles  from  the  foun- 
tain in  the  courtyard. 

'The  sapphire  I  leave  with  you  as  a  witness 
of  my  plea.' 

"And  slowly  the  merchant  retreated  toward 
the  door,  his  eyes  fastened  the  while  upon  the 
prince. 

"As  he  reached  the  threshold  he  paused,  and 
with  a  voice  that  seemed  to  lodge  in  the  con- 
sciousness of  his  inert  auditor  like  the  sigh  of 
Auster  over  the  daffodils  and  buttercups  of 
a  dream,  he  repeated: 

'To-day  as  the  sun  declines.' 

"And  the  next  instant,  with  an  abrupt  mo- 

[56] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

tion  of  his  hand  strangely  at  variance  with 
the  placid  gestures  just  preceding,  the  mer- 
chant disappeared  through  the  curtains  which 
screened  the  doorway. 

"And  now,"  said  the  Sepoy  abruptly,  as  he 
moved  his  chair  with  a  sharp  rasp  over  the 
bare  floor  and  transferred  his  glance  at  the 
same  time  from  the  drawn  countenance  of  his 
rapt  auditor  to  the  gleaming  gem  on  the  table, 
"and  now — is  it  not  a  beauty?" 

"Ah,  ha!"  murmured  Raikes,  disturbed  by 
the  abrupt  cessation  of  the  sedative  tones  of 
the  Sepoy  and  the  abrasion  of  the  chair, 
"superb!"  And  that  instant  all  his  keen  ani- 
mation returned. 

Apparently  Raikes  was  not  aware  of  any 
blanks  in  his  scrutiny  and  resumed  his  regard 
of  the  tantalizing  facets  with  knowing  sagacity 
and  an  envy  that  affected  him  like  a  hurt. 

"In  all  my  years,"  he  creaked,  as  his  long, 
prehensile  fingers  riveted  like  a  setting  to  the 
fascinating  bauble,  "I  have  never  seen  such  a 
gem. 

"The  cutting  is  exquisite;  it  is  a  study  in 
intelligent  execution;  every  facet  here  cost  a 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

pang;  how  vital  it  wajs  not  to  waste  an  atom 
of  this  precious  bulk. 

"What  a  delicate  adjustment  of  the  lines  of 
beauty  to  the  material  consideration;  the  bal- 
ance is  perfect."  And  with  this  confusion  of 
frank  cupidity  and  rapacious  regard,  the 
miser,  with  a  supreme  effort,  pushed  the  stone 
impatiently  toward  the  Sepoy. 

"Ah !"  exclaimed  the  latter,  "it  is  a  pleasure 
to  show  the  gem  to  one  who  is  able  to  com- 
prehend it. 

"It  is  even  finer  than  you  have  discerned. 
The  lapidary  was  subtle;  his  work  sustains 
closer  analysis.  Have  you  a  stray  glass? 

"No?  Well,  I  will  send  you  mine  and  you 
can  entertain  yourself  until  I  see  you  again." 

"What!"  exclaimed  Raikes,  "you  will  leave 
this  stone  with  me?" 

"Why  not?"  returned  the  Sepoy  evenly. 
"You  have  a  due  regard  for  property.  I  do 
not  fear  that  this  gem  will  meet  with  mishap 
in  your  possession.  Besides,  it  will  be  a  revela- 
tion to  you  under  the  glass,"  and,  arising,  he 
stepped  to  the  door,  leaving  the  brilliant  upon 
the  table  in  the  grasp  of  the  astonished  Raikes, 

[58] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

who  was  unable  to  comprehend  such  confidence 
and  unconcern. 

Traversing  the  hallway,  the  pair  reached  the 
door  which  opened  upon  the  apartments  con- 
trolled by  the  widow. 

As  he  paused  on  the  threshold  to  make  his 
adieux  to  Raikes,  the  Sepoy,  looking  at  the 
former  with  a  marvelously  glowing  glance,  re- 
peated, with  an  emphasis  so  eerie  as  to  occasion 
a  thrill  of  vague  uneasiness  in  his  companion, 
the  concluding  phrase  of  the  singular  tale  he 
had  related  to  Raikes: 

"To-day  as  the  sun  declines" 

And  the  moment  after  he  disappeared,  leav- 
ing the  startled  miser  to  gaze,  with  greedy  con- 
templation, upon  the  sapphire  which  he  re- 
tained in  his  grasp. 

( To  be  continued  on  Dickey  No.  3.) 

"Oh,  ho!"  exclaimed  Dennis  as  the  exasper- 
ating phrase  in  italics  met  his  glance,  "an*  it's 
here  you  are  again.  Shure,  a  man  would  tear 
his  shirt  to  tatters  for  a  tale  like  that,"  and 
with  appreciative  meditation  over  the  vexatious 
quandary  presented  by  the  cunning  of  the 

[59] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

bosom-maker  in  thus  adding  another  ruinous 
possibility;  to  the  inevitable  soil  and  wear,  he 
added : 

"Shure,  the  man  who  put  that  sthory  on  the 
dickey-back  knew  his  business.  Where  the 
dirt  laves  off  the  guessin'  begins,  and  betwixt 
the  two  it's  another  dickey  I'll  be  after — ah,  ha, 
an*  it's  a  fine  thing  to  have  brains  like  that." 

With  this  discerning  tribute,  Dennis  turned 
the  last  dickey  around  and  discovered  that  it 
was  protected  in  the  rear  with  a  sort  of  oiled 
paper,  through  which  the  story;  shadowed 
dimly. 

Here  was  the  pinch  of  his  dilemma. 

His  curiosity  was  sharpened  and  his  judg- 
ment impaired. 

In  a  variety  of  ways  literature  incapacitates 
a  man  for  the  exigencies  of  existence. 

Dennis  found  himself  visibly  enervated. 
At  last  he  remembered  that  the  week  had  ad- 
vanced only  as  far  as  Thursday.  Between  that 
time  and  the  Fabian  Saturday  a  number  of 
untoward  events  might  occur. 

A  more  seasoned  applicant  might  present 
himself  to  the  foreman  upon  whom  Dennis  de- 

.[60] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

pended,  or,  equally  grievous,  the  present  bibu- 
lous incumbent  might  be  alarmed  into  mending 
his  ways. 

Hitherto  Dennis  had  resisted  the  temptation 
to  present  himself  to  the  attention  of  the  fore- 
man in  advance  of  the  date  appointed. 

In  order,  therefore,  to  master  the  anxiety 
which  might  betray  him  into  some  overt  im- 
portunity, he  decided  to  devote  the  day  to  a 
persistent  canvass  of  the  possibilities  offered 
by  the  various  wholesale  houses. 

Unknown  to  himself,  Dennis  had  learned 
that  the  secret  of  patience  was  doing  some- 
thing else  in  the  meantime. 

However,  the  practical  at  last  was  trium- 
phant, and  Dennis,  with  a  resolution  that  de- 
manded prompt  execution  for  its  continued  ex- 
istence, adjusted  the  remaining  chapter  to  his 
waistcoat  in  the  early  morning  and  descended 
to  the  lower  floor. 

On  this  occasion  his  solicitous  friend  behind 
the  bar  insisted  upon  detaining  the  young 
Irishman,  who,  urged  by  his  solitary  predica- 
ment and  a  degree  depressed  by  the  series  of 
rebuffs  which  by  now  had  developed  a  malicious 

[61] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

habit,  proceeded  to  the  counter  and,  resting  one 
foot  upon  the  rail  near  the  floor  with  a  redeem- 
ing unfamiliarity,  responded  to  the  inquiry  of 
the  barman  by  admitting  that  he  felt  a  "wee 
bit  blue." 

This  statement  led  to  the  revelation  that  the 
barman  was  similarly  affected,  and  was  en- 
gaged, at  that  moment,  in  the  preparation  of  a 
famous  antidote  greatly  in  demand  by  sundry 
newsgatherers  and  night  editors  in  Park  Row. 

Dennis  watched  him  with  interest  and  re- 
marked that  he  set  out  two  glasses,  after  the 
manner  of  those  who  are  about  to  compound 
an  effervescent. 

Such,  however,  was  not  the  case,  and  Dennis 
was  startled  presently  to  see  the  barman,  after 
filling  both  glasses  with  a  decoction  which 
caught  the  light  from  a  dozen  merry  angles, 
push  one  of  them  in  his  direction  with  the  com- 
panionable suggestion:  "Have  one  with  me." 

Only  once  before  had  Dennis  indulged  in 
anything  of  a  stimulating  nature,  and  the  ef- 
fect upon  his  head  the  next  morning  had  been 
sufficient  to  discourage  its  repetition,  and  he 

[6*]. 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

informed  the  barman  of  this  disagreeable 
feature. 

"Oh!"  protested  that  insinuating  Mephisto 
as  he  held  his  glass  to  the  light  the  better  to 
concentrate  its  hypnotic  gleam  and  sparkle 
upon  the  vacillating  youth,  "there  is  no  head- 
ache in  this;  this  is  a  man's  medicine.  Get  it 
down;  it  will  do  you  good." 

Persuaded  by  the  example  before  him,  duped 
by  his  depressions,  and  weary  of  his  lone- 
liness, Dennis  responded  to  the  dubious  sug- 
gestion with  the  guilty  haste  of  one  who  has 
decided  to  let  down  the  moral  bars  for  a  short 
but  sufficient  interval. 

Palliated  from  its  original  rawness  by  the 
additions  of  the  barman,  the  draught  was  with- 
out special  bite  or  pungency  in  its  passage 
down  his  throat,  and  Dennis  was  aware  of  his 
indiscretion  only  by  an  increasing  glow  in  the 
pit  of  his  stomach  and  a  disposition  to  credit 
the  barman  with  a  degree  of  amiability  beyond 
that  ordinarily  manifested  by  this  functionary. 

The  potation,  however,  had  done  its  work 
but  partially ;  there  remained  the  itch  of  some- 
thing still  to  be  desired,  an  elevation  yet  un- 

[63], 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

attained,  and  Dennis  saw  no  other  way  up  the 
sheer  height  than  by  an  appeal  to  the  barman 
to  duplicate  his  initial  effort. 

When  this  had  joined  its  fluent  fellows  in 
their  several  midsts,  Dennis  was  inexperienced 
enough  to  accept,  as  a  matter  of  course,  the 
genial  disposition  toward  the  world  in  general 
which  replaced  the  depression  of  the  morning. 

A  native  eloquence,  long  disused,  began  to 
urge  him  to  a  sort  of  confused  improvisation. 

His  data  was  no  longer  morose. 

"Holdin'  on  cud  do  annything,"  he  assured 
the  barman. 

"It  isn't  a  bad  wurrld,  at  all,  if  wan  looks 
at  it  through  grane  glasses. 

"Shure,  I'm  in  a  bit  av  a  hole  at  prisint,  but 
not  too  dape  to  crawl  out  of." 

Then  after  a  pause,  to  enable  himself  to 
"shake  hands,"  so  to  speak,  with  the  suddenly 
developed  genial  aspect  of  affairs,  he  informed 
the  barman,  with  the  philosophy  of  his  pota- 
tions, that  "A  laugh  will  always  mend  a  kick, 
providin'  th'  kick  ain't  too  hard." 

This  pleased  the  barman,  who  responded  in 
his  characteristic  fashion,  and  Dennis,  in  ac- 


knowledgment,  substituted  the  price  of  break- 
fast as  fitting  return  of  civilities. 

However,  this  was  the  climax. 

Dennis  could  advance  no  farther.  His  bibu- 
lous friend,  with  apprehensive  disapproval,  of- 
fered a  few  diplomatic  suggestions  involving 
the  retirement  of  the  young  man  to  his  room, 
which  the  latter  accepted  with  an  unbalanced 
gravity  that  administered  its  reproof  even 
through  the  callous  epidermis  of  the  barman. 

Arrived  at  his  room,  Dennis,  influenced  by 
his  accelerated  circulation,  was  convinced  that 
the  apartment  was  oppressively  warm,  and  di- 
vested himself  of  his  coat  and  waistcoat. 

In  doing  so  he  detached  the  dickey  from  his 
neck,  and  as  it  fell  to  the  floor  the  curious  tale 
contained  in  its  predecessors  appealed  unmis- 
takably to  his  enkindled  imagination. 

Oblivious  of  the  campaign  arranged  for  the 
day,  heedless  of  the  inner  protest,  Dennis,  with 
all  the  abandon  of  his  condition,  hastened  to 
remove  the  oil  paper  from  the  rear  of  the 
dickey,  and  began  a  race  with  his  moral  lapse 
in  a  feverish  perusal  of  the  following. 

[65] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 


CHAPTER  IV 

WHEN  Raikes  returned  to  his  room  he 
seemed  to  himself  like  a  sunset  mocked  by  the 
adjacent  horizon,  with  tantalizing  suggestions 
for  which  it  was  reflectively  responsible. 

With  the  proper  inspiration,  there  is  a  de- 
gree of  poetry  in  the  worst  of  us. 

The  knowledge  that  he  would  be  compelled 
to  restore  the  gem  to  its  owner  in  the  morn- 
ing bestirred  another  comparison. 

This  time  his  idealism  was  not  so  elevated. 

He  likened  it  to  a  divorce  from  a  vampire 
which  had  already  digested  his  moral  qualities. 

The  sapphire  exhausted  him. 

The  only  parallel  irritation  was  one  which 
Raikes  inflicted  upon  himself  now  and  then. 

This  was  on  the  occasions  when  he  estab- 
lished himself  in  some  unobtrusive  portion  of 
the  bank  and  watched  with  greedy  interest  the 
impassive  tellers  handle  immense  sums  of 

[66] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

money  with  an  impersonality  which  it  was  im- 
possible for  his  avarice  to  comprehend. 

The  thievery  of  his  thoughts  and  the  ravin 
of  his  envy  would  have  provided  interesting 
bases  of  speculation  for  the  reflective  magis- 
trate, since,  if,  according  to  the  metaphysician, 
thoughts  are  things,  he  committed  crimes  daily. 

Had  the  Sepoy,  by  entrusting  the  gem  to  the 
custody  of  this  strange  being,  intended  to 
harass  his  shriveled  soul,  he  could  not  have 
adopted  a  more  effective  plan. 

The  certainty  of  the  sharp  bargain  which 
Raikes  could  drive  with  such  a  commodity  in 
certain  localities,  affected  him  with  the  exas- 
peration which  disturbs  the  lover  who  discovers 
in  the  eyes  of  his  sweetheart  the  embrace  to 
which  he  is  welcome  but  from  which  he  is  re- 
strained by  the  presence  of  her  parent. 

The  many  forms  of  value  to  which  it  could 
be  transformed  by  the  alchemy  of  intelligent 
barter  made  distracting  appeals. 

The  facets  danced  their  vivid  vertigos  into 
his  brain. 

At  last,  starting  to  his  feet  with  impatient 

[67] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

resolution,  he  hurried  to  a  button  in  the  wall, 
which  controlled  the  radiator  valves. 

After  a  series  of  complicated  movements,  he 
succeeded  in  swinging  aside  the  entire  iron 
framework  beneath  it,  revealing,  directly  in  the 
rear,  a  considerable  recess. 

In  the  center  of  this  space  a  knob  protruded 
surrounded  by  a  combination  lock,  which,  un- 
der Raikes'  familiar  manipulation,  disclosed  a 
further  cavity. 

With  an  expression  not  unsuggestive  of  the 
mien  of  the  disconsolate  relict  who  has  just 
made  her  melancholy  deposit  in  the  vault, 
Raikes  placed  the  sapphire  in  this  second  re- 
cess, closed  the  combination  door,  replaced  the 
swinging  radiator,  and  prepared  to  retire  for 
the  remainder  of  the  night. 

When  sleep,  if  that  unrestful  and  populous 
trance  to  which  he  finally  succumbed  can  be  so 
designated,  came  to  him,  the  disorders  of  his 
wakeful  hours  were  emphasized  in  his  dreams. 

He  had  been  haled  to  court ;  convicted  with- 
out defense;  sent  headless  to  Charon,  and  was 
obliged,  on  that  account,  to  make  a  ventrilo- 
quial  request  for  a  passage  across  the  Styx; 

[68] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

so  that,  in  the  morning,  it  was  with  genuine 
relief  he  returned  the  jewel  to  its  owner  and 
resumed  his  wonted  meagerness  of  visage  and 
useless  deprivations. 

As  the  Sepoy  pocketed  the  gem  he  looked  at 
Raikes  with  a  glance  at  once  searching  and 
derisive  as  he  asked: 

"Was  I  not  right  in  calling  it  a  marvel?" 

"Aye!"  returned  Raikes  sourly,  "marvel,  in- 
deed ;  but  the  miracle  of  it  is  that  you  have  it 
back  again.  Your  trust  in  human  nature  would 
be  sublime  wrere  it  not  so  unsupported ;  it  needs 
the  tonic  of  loss.  I  hope  this  is  not  habitual?" 

"I  will  pay  you  the  tribute  of  assuring  you 
that  it  is  not,"  replied  the  Sepoy. 

"Ah,  ha!"  returned  Raikes  with  a  mirthless 
grin.  "I  am  to  accept  the  brief  custody  of  this 
gem  as  a  recognition  of  my  personal  integrity. 
I  see,  I  see.  Well,  I  would  appreciate  the 
courtesy  more  if  I  could  indorse  its  in- 
caution.  However,"  he  added  abruptly,  "why 
did  you  end  that  extraordinary  tale  so  incon- 
clusively? I  could  almost  suspect  you  of  a 
design  to  arouse  my  curiosity  as  to  what  is  to 
follow." 

[69] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

"Ah,  you  remember,  then?" 

"Why  not?"  asked  Raikes.  "The  narrative 
is  singular  enough,  God  knows,  to  make  an 
impression,  and  sufficiently  recent  to  be  defi- 
nite. I  would  not  like  to  think  that  I  could 
forget  things  so  easily." 

"Very  well,"  said  the  Sepoy.  "Come  to  my 
room  at  ten  o'clock  to-night;  I  am  due  else- 
where until  then." 

With  a  promptness  that  attested  his  inter- 
est, Raikes  presented  himself  at  the  hour  ap- 
pointed, and  his  singular  host  again  permitted 
him  to  enjoy  a  delegate  smoke. 

"Herel"  he  exclaimed  abruptly,  producing  a 
strong  magnifying  glass,  "here's  a  connoisseur 
whose  revelations  you  may  trust.  Examine 
these  facets  with  its  help,"  and  again  the  Sepoy 
placed  the  sapphire  within  reach  of  the  covetous 
Raikes,  who  promptly  availed  himself  of  the 
tantalizing  privilege. 

Waiting,  apparently,  until  his  auditor  be- 
came absorbed  in  his  contemplation  of  the  gem, 
the  Sepoy  at  last  began  with  the  same  even 
modulations  which  characterized  his  narrative 
at  the  outset: 

[70] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

"No  sooner  had  Ram  Lai  disappeared 
through  the  curtains  than  the  curious  apathy 
of  the  prince  vanished  and  was  replaced  by 
a  demeanor  of  perplexed  concentration  in  the 
direction  pursued  by  the  merchant. 

"The  prince  had  listened  without  comment 
or  interruption  during  the  recital  of  the  nar- 
rator, his  eyes  fixed,  the  while,  upon  the 
brilliant. 

"He  did  not  know  of  the  weird  gestures  of 
the  speaker,  nor  had  he  seen  the  wonderful 
transformation  of  the  man. 

"Consequently  he  was  startled  for  the  mo* 
ment  to  contemplate  the  blank  so  recently  filled 
by  Ram  Lai. 

"The  sapphire,  however,  remained.  That,  at 
least,  was  real,  and  replacing  it  in  the  box,  he 
proceeded,  with  a  degree  of  absent  preoccupa- 
tion, to  the  courtyard,  and  presently  found 
himself  gazing  aimlessly  in  the  fountain  basin. 

"Curiously  enough,  it  had  not  occurred  to 
the  prince  to  resent  the  assured  attitude  of  the 
merchant,  or  to  speculate  upon  the  insinuating 
suggestions  of  complicity  which  the  latter  had 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

managed  to  lodge  in  the  consciousness  of  his 
august  auditor. 

"Nor  did  he  feel  outraged  at  the  intrusion 
of  the  dangerous  alternative  proposed  by  the 
audacious  Ram  Lai. 

"He  appeared  to  be  seduced  by  the  sapphire 
and  fascinated  by  the  recital. 

"Slowly  he  retraced  the  byways  of  the 
strange  episode  until  he  resumed,  with  singular 
precision  of  memory,  the  words  of  the  mer- 
chant, which  explained  the  presence  of  the 
gem: 

"I  have  observed  the  proprieties  in  making 
my  request.  It  is  a  time-honored  custom  for 
the  suppliant  to  signalize  his  appreciation  of 
the  importance  of  the  favor  he  solicits/ 

"Ah!  a  sudden  illumination  pervaded  the 
mind  of  the  prince. 

"The  sapphire  was  a  royal  subsidy. 

"What  favor  could  he  grant  in  proportion 
to  the  value  of  such  means  of  overture? 

"The  question  established  another  point  of 
association;  unconsciously  he  quoted  again: 

'  'To-day  at  sundown  I  shall  expect  my 
daughter.  If  she  does  not  come  to  me  then, 

[72] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

O  prince,  a  heaping  handful  of  the  precious 
stones  you  hold  so  dearly  will  be  missing,  and 
in  their  stead  will  be  as  many  pebbles  from  the 
fountain  in  the  courtyard' 

c  'Pebbles  for  diamonds  1'  he  repeated,  and 
yet  the  proposition  did  not  appeal  to  his  cynical 
humor.  There  was  menace  in  the  suggestion, 
but  his  intolerant  spirit  did  not  resent  it. 

"In  a  vague  way  he  was  more  convinced  than 
alarmed,  and  did  not  pause  to  puzzle  over  the 
anomaly,  although  reassured  somewhat  as  he 
reflected  upon  the  cunning  safeguards  to  his 
treasury,  whose  solitary  sesame  was  known 
to  himself  alone. 

"Prince  Otondo,  like  other  native  rulers  at 
this  period,  frightened  at  the  mercenary  re- 
forms of  the  British  in  other  sections,  and  in- 
structed by  the  unhappy  comparisons,  had  con- 
centrated the  whole  of  his  fortune  and  consider- 
able of  his  current  revenues  in  jewels. 

"These  were  portable  and  could  be  concealed 
about  his  person  in  any  emergency  demanding 
a  hasty  abdication  on  his  part. 

"To  the  shrewd  Ram  Lai  the  prince  had  en- 
trusted the  purchase  of  nearly  all  of  this  costly 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

collection,  contenting  himself,  for  the  present, 
with  intelligent  calculations  as  to  the  percent- 
age of  profit  which  had  accrued  to  the  merchant 
in  these  transactions. 

*  'Ah,  well !'  and  with  an  impatient  shrug  of 
the  shoulders,  that  was  curiously  devoid  of 
its  customary  insolence,  Prince  Otondo  dis- 
missed these  unfamiliar  apprehensions  and  for- 
bore to  wonder  at  their  strange  intrusion  upon 
his  wonted  complacency. 

"Apparently,  a  more  agreeable  occasion  of 
reflection  presented  itself,  for  a  smile,  half  sin- 
ister, half  genial,  illumined  the  gloom  of  his 
fine  countenance.  As  if  in  obedience  to  its 
suggestion,  he  turned  abruptly  from  the  foun- 
tain and  re-entered  the  palace. 

"Arrived  at  that  portion  of  the  structure  set 
aside  for  his  individual  use,  he  hurried,  with 
expectant,  lithe  agility,  through  an  opening  in 
the  wall  concealed  hitherto  by  silken  hangings, 
and  entered  upon  a  narrow  passageway,  which 
terminated  in  another  undulating  subterfuge 
of  drapery. 

"Pausing  outside,  the  prince  lightly  touched 

[74] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

a  gong  suspended  from  the  ceiling  and  which 
replied  with  a  solemn  chime-like  resonance. 

"In  response,  the  curtains  parted,  and  a  na- 
tive woman,  pathetically  ugly  and  servile, 
appeared  and  prostrated  herself  in  abject  salu- 
tation. 

"Following  the  direction  of  his  hand  the 
cringing  creature  arose  and  hurried  along  the 
passageway  just  traversed  by  the  prince,  who, 
satisfied  as  to  her  departure,  parted  the  cur- 
tains and  entered  a  small  ante-chamber,  beyond 
which  a  sumptuously-appointed  apartment  ex- 
tended. 

"At  the  extreme  end,  with  a  demeanor  more 
suggestive  of  expectation  than  alarm  or  dejec- 
tion, a  young  girl  reclined  upon  a  divan  near 
the  lattice-screened  window. 

"Advised  of  the  approach  of  her  distin- 
guished visitor  by  an  advance  rendered  as  ob- 
vious as  possible  by  the  rustling  sweep  of  the 
parted  curtains  and  an  unwonted  emphasis  of 
tread,  which  avoided  the  rugs  and  sought  the 
tesselated  floor  for  this  purpose,  the  supple 
figure  stood  erect  and  in  an  attitude  of  ques- 
tioning deference  awaited  whatever  demonstra- 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

tion  might  follow  this  apparently  not  unex- 
pected advent. 

"As  she  stood  thus  in  an  unconscious  pose 
of  virginal  dignity,  the  girl  seemed  to  express 
a  subtle  majesty,  in  which,  at  the  moment,  the 
prince  was  manifestly  deficient. 

"A  degree  taller  than  her  age  would  war- 
rant, she  appeared  to  the  enamored  gaze  of  the 
prince  the  ideal  of  symmetrical  slenderness. 

"Her  figure,  perfectly  proportioned,  and 
chastened,  by  the  ardent  rigors  of  the  climate, 
of  every  fraction  of  superfluous  flesh,  appeared 
to  bud  and  round  for  the  sole  purpose  of  con- 
cluding in  exquisite  tapers. 

"Her  eyes,  large  and  luminous  and  harmoni- 
ously fringed  with  that  placid  length  of  lash 
usually  associated  with  the  sensuous,  were 
saved  from  that  suspicion  by  the  innocent  ques- 
tion and  confiding  abandon  of  her  half -parted 
lips. 

"Her  hands,  clasped  at  the  moment  before 
her,  possessed  the  indescribable  contour  of  re- 
finement and  high  breeding,  and  manifested  a 
degree  of  the  tension  of  her  present  privileges 
by  a  closer  interlace  of  the  fingers  than  usual. 

[76] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

"A  robe  of  white,  confined  loosely  to  her 
waist  by  a  vari-colored  sash,  which  drooped 
gracefully  to  catch  up  the  folds  in  front,  clung 
softly  to  her  figure  in  sylphid  revelation  of 
the  matchless  proportions  it  could  never  con- 
ceal. 

:  'Lai  Lu!'  exclaimed  the  prince  unevenly, 
his  face  reflecting  the  strife  of  deference  and 
desire  as  he  disengaged  the  clasped  hands  of 
the  maiden  and  held  them  closely  in  his  own, 
'what  is  it  to  be,  the  Vale  of  Cashmere  or  the 
snows  of  Himalaya?' 

"For  a  moment  the  girl  gazed  with  discon- 
certing directness  upon  her  ardent  companion, 
as  the  warmth  of  his  impulse  deepened  the  dusk 
of  his  countenance  and  threaded  the  fine  white 
of  his  eyes  with  ruddy  suffusions. 

"  'O  prince!'  she  replied,  veiling  her  eyes  the 
while  with  tantalizing  lashes  and  reflecting, 
with  exquisite  duplication,  a  degree  of  the  color 
which  burned  in  the  cheeks  of  her  visitor,  'other 
answer  have  I  none  save  that  I  gave  thee 
yesterday.' 

"With  an  impatient  exclamation  the  prince 
released  the  hands  he  held  in  such  vehement 

[77] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

grasp,  and  stood,  for  a  space,  with  his  arms 
folded,  directing  upon  the  trembling  beauty 
the  while  a  gaze  of  vivid,  glowing  menace 
which  was  scarcely  to  be  endured. 

"  'Ah!'  he  cried  in  a  voice  of  husky  contrast 
to  his  usual  placid  utterance,  'have  you  re- 
flected, Lai  Lu,  how  futile  thy  objections  may 
be  if  I  choose  to  make  them  so?' 

"With  surprising  calmness  and  a  sweet  dig- 
nity, which  was  not  without  its  effect  upon  the 
prince,  although  it  sharpened  to  the  refinement 
of  torture  the  keenness  of  his  infatuation,  Lai 
Lu  replied: 

'  'I  have  said,  my  lord.' 

"At  this  reply  the  prince,  exasperated  be- 
yond further  control,  with  ruthless,  fervent 
abandon,  caught  the  trembling  Lai  Lu  in  his 
arms  and  held  her,  palpitating,  reproachful,  in 
his  savage  embrace. 

"Bewildered  at  the  quickness  of  his  action, 
Lai  Lu  reposed  inertly  within  the  passionate 
restraint  of  his  sinewy  arms,  but  the  next  in- 
stant, transformed  into  an  indignant  goddess, 
struggled,  with  surprising  strength,  from 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

his  clasp  and  held  the  mortified  prince  in 
chafing  repulse  by  the  chaste  challenge  of  her 
flaming  eyes. 

'  'Hear  me,  Prince  Otondo !'  she  cried  with 
unmistakable  candor  and  disturbing  incisive- 
ness  of  speech : 

'  'I  love  not  save  where  I  choose. 

'  'Of  what  avail  is  it  to  subdue  this  frail 
body?  What  is  the  joy  of  such  a  conquest? 
Where  the  pleasure  in  an  empty  casket?' 

"Abashed,  astounded,  the  prince  retreated  a 
space  and  looked,  with  savage  intentness,  upon 
the  beautiful  girl,  superb  in  her  denunciation, 
enchanting  in  the  rebellious  dishevel  of  her  hair, 
the  indignant  rebuke  of  her  eyes. 

"Some  reflection  of  contriteness  must  have 
beamed  its  acknowledgment  of  the  justice  of 
her  virtuous  outburst  in  the  glance  which  held 
her  in  its  ardent  fascination,  for  Lai  Lu  re- 
sumed, in  a  voice  sensibly  modulated  and  with 
a  demeanor  curiously  softened: 

'  'Long  have  I  known  of  thee,  O  prince! 

'  'Before  all  others  have  I  placed  thee. 

'  'Wonder  not,  then,  that  I  resent  the  ig- 

[79] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

noble  assumption  that  my  regard  may  be  com- 
pelled. 

'  'My  love  is  as  royal  as  thine. 

*  *I  bestow  it  where  I  will ;  unasked,  if  its 
object  pleaseth  me. 

'  'But  I  make  no  sign,  O  prince. 

'  'In  such  a  stress  a  maiden  may  not  speak 
her  mind/ 

''Peace,  Lai  LuP  exclaimed  the  prince, 
who,  during  her  initial  reproaches  and  her  sub- 
sequent explanations,  had  recovered  his  native 
dignity  of  carriage  and  elevation  of  demeanor; 
'peace !  Never  before  have  I  hearkened  to  such 
speech  as  thine. 

'  'All  my  life  I  have  had  but  to  ask,  and 
what  I  craved  was  mine. 

'  'My  wish  has  been  my  command. 

1  'Hear,  then,  Lai  Lu :  Henceforward  thou 
art  as  safe  with  me  as  in  thy  father's  home.' 

'  'Aye!  what  of  him?'  interrupted  the 
maiden;  'what  of  my  father,  O  prince?' 

'  'All  is  well  with  him,'  replied  the  prince, 
manifestly  chagrined  at  the  incautious  intro- 
duction of  this  disturbing  name  and  the  filial 
solicitude  it  awakened. 

[80] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

'  'He  has  been  assured  of  thy  safety;  of  him 
will  I  speak  later.  But  now,  Lai  Lu 

'  'I  acknowledge  thy  rebuke.  I  stand  before 
thee,  thy  sovereign,  thy  suppliant. 

'  'See!'  he  exclaimed,  'what  I  cannot  de- 
mand, I  entreat';  and  with  an  indescribably 
fascinating  tribute  of  surrender  and  yearning, 
this  royal  suitor  awaited  her  reply. 

"Leaning  for  support  against  a  slender 
stand  near-by,  to  which  she  communicated  the 
trembling  fervor  which  pulsed  so  warmly 
through  every  fiber  of  her  being,  the  beauti- 
ful Lai  Lu  looked  upon  the  fine  countenance 
before  her  with  a  light  in  her  eyes  that  dazzled 
with  its  subtle  radiance. 

"'Oh,  Lai  Lu!'  cried  the  prince  as  he  ad- 
vanced toward  the  trembling  maiden  with 
eager  precipitation. 

"  'One  moment,  O  prince !'  exclaimed  Lai 
Lu,  extending  a  restraining  hand. 

"  'I  know  not  what  to  say  to  thee;  yet  will 
I  meet  thy  candor  with  equal  frankness.  Yea, 
Prince  Otondo,  I  love  thee  indeed.  I  feel  no 
shame  in  the  confession.  I  have  loved  thee 
always.  I  am ' 

[81] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

"But  the  prince,  after  the  fashion  of  lovers, 
made  further  speech  impossible;  and  Lai  Lu, 
with  all  the  exquisite  charm  of  womanly  capitu- 
lation, threw  her  dusky  arms  about  his  neck 
and  held  his  lips  to  hers  in  the  only  kiss  beside 
her  father's  she  had  ever  known. 

"For  one  delirious  moment,  and  then,  re- 
leasing herself,  she  stood  before  the  prince,  a 
very  blushing  majesty  of  love,  and  said: 

'  'And  now,  O  prince,  I  have  told  thee  my 
secret.  Be  thou  equally  generous  and  restore 
me  to  my  father,  and  then  come  to  me  when 
thou  desirest  and  I  am  thine." 

"Concealing  his  impatience  at  this  last  sug- 
gestion, the  prince,  with  wily  indirection,  said : 

"  'It  is  too  late  to-day,  Lai  Lu.  Thy  father 
will  be  here  on  the  morrow;  rest  thyself  until 
then/  and  fearful  lest  the  maiden  would  pene- 
trate his  purpose,  he  added: 

'  'Lai  Lu,  I  am  compelled  to  leave  thee  for 
a  space ;  I  will  send  thy  woman  to  thee.  Until 
to-morrow,  then,  adieu.'  And  fixing  upon  her 
a  glance  so  ardent  that  she  almost  followed  him 
in  its  fascination,  the  prince  withdrew  from  her 
presence  with  a  reluctance  which  was  dupli- 

[82] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

cated  in  the  bosom  of  the  bewildered  girl,  if 
not  so  unmistakably  evinced. 

"As  the  prince  retreated  toward  his  apart- 
ments, the  alarming  alternative  proposed  by 
the  merchant  repeated  itself  with  a  sort  of 
wordless  insistence: 

'  'Unless  Lai  Lu  shall  be  returned,  a  hand- 
ful of  my  precious  stones  shall  be  missing. 

"'Ah! 

'  'In  their  place  will  be  as  many  pebbles! 

"'Impossible!' 

"And  secure  in  his  bedchamber,  into  which 
none  might  venture  without  ceremonious  an- 
nouncement, the  prince  hastened  to  a  recess  in 
the  wall,  where,  in  response  to  a  pressure  ap- 
plied to  a  spot  known  only  to  himself,  a  cun- 
ningly devised  panel  shot  back,  revealing  a 
gleaming,  glittering  mass  of  scintillating  light 
and  glamor. 

'  'Ah,  ha!'  he  gloated,  'no  pebbles  yet';  and 
plunging  his  hands  into  the  costly  heap,  he 
withdrew  a  motley  of  diamonds,  sapphires, 
rubies  and  opals,  and  held  them,  with  grudging 
avarice,  to  the  regard  of  the  declining  sun. 

'  'No  pebbles  yet,'  he  repeated,  as  he  chal- 

[83], 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

lenged  the  fires  of  the  gems  with  the  fever  of 
his  eyes,  and  sent  mimic  lightnings  hither  and 
thither  by  communicating  the  tremble  of  his 
hands  and  the  incidence  of  the  sunbeams  to  the 
glorious  confusion  of  facet  and  hue;  'no  peb- 
bles yet.' 

"As  Prince  Otondo  repeated  this  obvious 
reassurance,  he  replaced  the  gems,  which 
seemed  to  quiver  with  lambent  life,  within  the 
compartment,  and  withdrawing  the  shagreen 
case  from  his  sash,  he  discharged  the  magnifi- 
cent sapphire  it  contained  upon  the  apex  of 
the  glittering  heap,  where  it  rested  with  a  sort 
of  insolent  disproportion  to  the  irradiant 
pyramid  of  brilliants  beneath. 

"Regarding  the  bewildering  ensemble  for  a 
few  moments  of  exulting  ownership  and 
familiar  calculation,  the  prince  closed  the  panel 
with  the  mien  of  Paris  making  restitution  of 
Helen,  and,  turning  aside,  prepared  to  retire 
for  the  night. 

"The  ceremony  was  simple  and  so  promptly 
observed  that  ere  the  radiance  had  ceased  its 
revel  in  his  mind  the  prince  found  himself  re- 
clining upon  his  couch,  unusually  ready  to  sue- 

[84] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

cumb  to  the  sleep  which  he  had  so  often  sought 
in  vain. 

"The  night  was  hot  and  stifling,  and  yet  it 
seemed  to  the  prince  that  he  had  only  retired 
to  rise  the  moment  after,  so  profound  had  been 
his  slumber  and  so  quickly  had  daybreak 
arrived. 

"For  a  few  moments  he  lay  in  that  agreeable 
condition  of  semi-realization  ere  the  visages  of 
his  wonted  obligations  had  assumed  the  defini- 
tion of  their  customary  insistence,  or  the 
menace  of  a  restrained  remorse  had  rean- 
nounced  itself,  when  suddenly,  without  intro- 
duction or  sequence,  the  phrase  'pebbles  for 
diamonds'  slipped  into  his  consciousness. 

"In  a  second  he  was  alert  and  awake;  the 
next  instant  he  found  himself  at  the  panel, 
reaching  tremulously  for  the  concealed  spring. 

"At  last  he  found  it;  the  panel  shot  back, 
and  the  prince,  after  one  searching  glance, 
stood  transfixed  and  uttered  a  cry  of  wonder- 
ing despair. 

'The  gleaming  hoard  still  shot  its  varied 
lightnings.  The  royal  sapphire  still  crowned 
its  priceless  apex.  To  his  starting  eyes  his 

[851 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

treasure  was  not  a  whit  diminished,  but  di- 
rectly in  front,  and  at  the  base  of  the  precious 
heap,  lay  as  many  as  would  make  a  heaping 
handful  of  pebbles." 

As  the  Sepoy  reached  this  startling  climax 
in  his  recital,  the  even  modulations  of  his  voice 
ceased  abruptly. 

Raikes,  missing  the  somnolent  monotone, 
looked  up  quickly. 

The  eyes  of  the  Sepoy  were  fixed  upon  him 
with  a  gleam  in  his  glance  not  unlike  that  of 
the  sapphire  upon  which  the  miser  had  been 
engaged  during  the  whole  of  this  singular 
narrative. 

"That  is  a  weird  tale,"  he  said  at  last.  "Why 
do  you  pause  at  such  a  point?  What  is  the 
conclusion?" 

"That  is  some  distance  away  yet,"  replied 
the  Sepoy.  "If  you  care  to  continue,  I  will 
resume  the  thread  at  this  time  to-morrow  eve- 
ning." 

"Very  well,"  answered  Raikes  with  some  im- 
patience, "I  will  be  here.  I  must,  at  least,  con- 
gratulate you  upon  your  observance  of  the 

[86] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

proprieties    in   tale-telling;    you   manage    to 
pause  at  the  proper  places." 

"You  are  curious,  then,  to  hear  the  rest?" 
"Naturally,"  replied  Raikes,  with  the  sour 
candor  which  distinguished  him.  "The  situa- 
tion you  describe  I  can  appreciate — the  loser 
confronted  with  his  loss — and  I  am  to  conjec- 
ture his  attitude  until  to-morrow  night.  Very 
well,  I  bid  you  good  evening,"  and  Raikes, 
with  a  curt  inclination  of  the  head,  which  made 
a  travesty  of  his  intention  to  be  courteous, 
vanished  through  the  doorway. 

(The  continuation  of  this  remarkable  story 
will  be  found  on  Dickey  Series  B,  which  may 
be  bought  from  almost  any  haberdasher.) 

As  Dennis  reached  this  announcement  his 
head  throbbed  violently. 

He  had  raced  so  apace  with  the  movement 
of  the  tale  that  he  had  not  remarked,  in  his 
absorption,  an  unfamiliar  congestion  about  the 
base  of  his  brain. 

Directly,  however,  he  was  convinced  of  its 
disagreeable  presence  when  this  abrupt  con- 

[87] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

elusion,  which  he  had  come  to  expect  at  the 
end  of  each  bosom,  materialized  to  his  irritated 
anticipation. 

He  was  no  longer  inclined  to  admire  the  cal- 
culating genius  of  the  italicized  phrase. 

A  temperance  lecture  was  aching  its  way 
through  his  head.  His  conscience  seemed  to 
have  decided  to  reside  in  the  pit  of  his  stomach, 
and  a  sense  of  surrender  and  defeat  humiliated 
him. 

His  room  looked  cell-like. 

The  arrow  pointing  to  the  fire-escape  seemed 
full  of  menace. 

His  face,  reflected  from  the  dingy  glass,  had 
never  appeared  so  ugly  and  reproachful. 

He  needed  something  to  restore  his  confi- 
dence, but  was  happily  unaware  of  the  nature 
of  the  remedy  his  system  demanded. 

It  was  his  first  offense. 

He  raised  the  window  for  a  breath  of  fresh 
air,  and  the  roaring  street  called  him. 

There  was  mockery  and  invitation  in  its 
hubbub.  Why  not?  A  little  exercise  would 
bring  him  around  to  his  point  of  moral  depar- 
ture. 

[88] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

So,  hastily  adjusting  the  third  chapter  to  his 
waistcoat  and  donning  the  balance  of  his  gar- 
ments, he  fitted  his  hat  to  his  head  with 
thoughtful  caution  and  hurried  to  the  bustling 
thoroughfare. 

Preoccupied  by  his  gradually  lessening  disa- 
bilities, Dennis  did  not  remark  that  the  course 
pursued  by  him  had  the  house  of  the  publisher 
as  its  terminus,  until  he  stood  directly  before 
that  august  establishment. 

As  the  young  Irishman  recognized  his  sur- 
roundings, it  did  not  take  him  long  to  persuade 
himself,  with  native  superstition,  as  he  con- 
sidered the  unaware  nature  of  his  arrival,  that 
Providence  had  directed  his  footsteps  thither, 
and,  with  the  species  of  courage  that  can  come 
from  such  a  basis,  he  proceeded  to  the  rearway, 
where  he  beheld  the  Celt  in  whom  his  hopes 
were  centered,  berating  the  porters,  with  a 
mien  which  offered  anything  but  encourage- 
ment to  the  anxious  young  man. 

However,  he  came  forward  tentatively,  and 
found  himself,  presently,  so  much  within  the 
radius  of  the  foreman's  range  of  vision  as  to 
be  compelled  to  accept,  with  enforced  urbanity, 

[89] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

the  vituperation  of  the  draymen,  who  objected 
to  the  amount  of  landscape  he  occupied  with 
his  bulk  and  eager  personality. 

At  last,  when  the  foreman  had  bullied  his 
lusty  understudies  into  a  certain  degree  of 
sullen  system,  and  the  drays  began  to  move 
away  with  their  mysterious  burdens,  Dennis 
ventured  to  address  him. 

Greatly  to  his  relief,  the  perturbed  counte- 
nance of  the  latter  softened  perceptibly  as  he 
exclaimed : 

"Ah,  ha!  an'  it's  there  ye  are?" 

"Yes,"  replied  Dennis  with  solicitous  abne- 
gation. 

"Well,"  returned  the  other,  "roll  up  yer 
sleeves;  yer  job's  a-waitin'  fur  ye." 

With  an  agility  that  betrayed  the  diplomacy 
of  his  countenance  into  ingenuous  exultation, 
Dennis  followed  the  foreman  into  the  ware- 
house, and  the  latter  at  once  began  his  instruc- 
tions as  to  the  system  of  marking,  and  Dennis 
mastered  its  simple  mysteries  with  a  quickness 
that  was  not  only  flattering  to  the  discernment 
of  his  instructor  but  an  indorsement  of  Celtic 
adjustability  in  general. 

[90] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

In  the  course  of  the  morning  Dennis  dis- 
covered that  his  predecessor  had  put  him  under 
obligations  by  prolonging  his  debauch,  and 
that  his  arrival  upon  the  scene  had  been  most 
opportune  in  consequence. 

He  was  now  assured  of  a  position,  whose 
only  handicap  was  the  prospect,  delicately  in- 
sinuated by  the  foreman  for  his  consideration, 
of  the  possible  state  of  mind  of  the  previous 
incumbent  when  he  realized  that  his  niche  had 
been  filled,  and  it  did  not  add  to  his  cheerful- 
ness when  the  foreman  examined  his  biceps 
with  an  expert  touch  and  remarked:  "I  guess 
that  ye  can  take  care  of  yerself." 

There  was  nothing  belligerent  about  Dennis, 
and  he  trusted  that  his  predecessor  would  not 
regard  him  from  that  standpoint. 

In  the  meantime  Saturday  arrived,  and  Den- 
nis, in  possession  of  his  proportion  of  the  week's 
pay,  hurried  to  The  Stag  by  way  of  Baxter 
Street. 

In  this  locality  he  began  a  search  for  Series 
B  of  the  dickies,  and  was  finally  successful, 
after  a  number  of  disappointments  and  a  pro- 
tracted hunt. 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

With  the  courage  of  his  recently  acquired 
situation,  Dennis  proposed  to  indulge  in  a 
little  improvidence. 

He  decided  that  he  would  follow  the  singu- 
lar recital  on  the  dickey  backs  and  rip  off  a 
chapter  at  a  time. 

After  a  night  of  fortifying  slumber,  Dennis 
arose,  breakfasted,  and  boarded  an  elevated 
train,  which  presently  conveyed  him  to  the 
vicinity  of  Central  Park. 

Here,  after  securing  a  seat  to  his  fancy,  he 
withdrew  Series  B  from  the  wrapper,  detached 
bosom  No.  1  and  began. 


I  9*  J 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 


CHAPTER  V 

WHEN  Raikes  had  parted  from  the  Sepoy, 
a  degree  of  his  customary  hardness  and  assur- 
ance was  evident  in  his  manner. 

He  had  been  able  to  comment  sagaciously 
upon  the  extraordinary  narrative,  and  had  ap- 
propriated as  much  of  the  sapphire  as  his 
greedy  glance  and  covetous  memory  could  bear 
away ;  but  now  that  he  pursued  his  way  along 
the  dimly  lighted  hallway  which  led  to  his 
apartment,  a  singularly  thoughtful  mood  op- 
pressed him. 

This  phenomenon,  due,  in  part,  to  the  cessa- 
tion of  the  drowsy  cadences  of  the  Sepoy  and 
the  absence  of  the  fascination  and  gleam  of 
the  sapphire,  was  relegated  by  Raikes  to  the 
overtures  of  approaching  drowsiness. 

And  yet  the  startling  episode  which  con- 
fronted Prince  Otondo  in  the  evening's  instal- 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

ment  of  this  Oriental  complication  recurred 
to  his  mind  again  and  again. 

Strangely,  too,  Raikes  did  not  comment 
upon  the  singular  fact  of  the  narrative  itself. 

Why  should  the  Sepoy  take  the  trouble  to 
relate  it  to  him,  and  why  should  he,  of  all 
unconcerned  and  self -centered  men,  manifest 
such  an  unusual  interest  in  a  recital  which 
lacked  every  practical  feature  and  had  noth- 
ing but  the  weird  to  commend  it? 

If  he  asked  himself  these  questions,  it  was 
with  the  impersonality  of  lethargy,  for  they 
were  dismissed  as  readily  as  they  presented 
themselves. 

With  such  sedative  queries,  which  were 
gradually  diminishing  from  fabric  to  ravel, 
Raikes  finally  reached  his  room  and,  securely 
bolting  the  door,  began  to  prepare  to  retire. 

This  was  not  an  elaborate  proceeding. 

His  outer  garments  removed,  he  had  only  to 
seek  the  seclusion  of  the  bedclothes,  clad  in  the 
remainder  of  his  attire. 

In  this  manner  he  economized  on  the  cost 
of  a  night-robe  and  the  time  it  would  consume 
to  don  and  doff  such  a  superfluity. 

[94] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

At  all  events,  if  such  was  not  his  sordid  rea- 
soning, the  promptness  with  which  he  fell 
asleep  indicated  that  he  did  not  propose  to 
squander  useless  time  in  wakeful  speculation 
upon  the  intangible  nothings  to  which  his  recol- 
lection of  the  narrative  began  to  fade. 

However,  if  Raikes  had  succeeded  in  pass~ 
ing  the  boundaries  of  slumber,  he  had  admitted, 
at  the  same  time,  extravagances  of  which  he 
would  never  have  been  guilty  in  his  wakeful 
hours,  for  he  found  himself  so  engaged  in  all 
sorts  of  uneasy  shiftlessness  and  inconsider- 
ate expenditure  that  when  morning  came  and 
he  awoke,  as  usual,  with  the  sunrise,  he  resumed 
his  customary  identity,  peevish  and  unre- 
freshed. 

For  a  moment  he  sat  with  his  knees  huddled 
to  his  chin,  over  which  his  eyes  peered  like  ver- 
min in  the  wainscoting,  and  then,  urged  by  an 
impulse  whose  source  he  could  not  determine, 
he  leaped  with  surprising  agility  to  the  floor 
and  proceeded  to  the  false  radiator. 

For  a  short  space  of  inexplicable  indecision 
he  stood  with  his  hands  resting  upon  the  but- 
ton which  released  the  fastenings  in  the  rear, 

[95] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

an  uneasy  thoughtfulness  converging  the  ugly 
wrinkles  downward  to  the  root  of  his  nose  and 
contracting  his  eyebrows  with  senile  apprehen- 
sion. 

Suddenly  his  wonted  decision  asserted  itself. 
He  pressed  the  button  and  the  radiator  swung 
toward  him;  a  few  moments  later  the  inner 
compartments  responded  to  his  manipulation, 
and  the  last  door  opened. 

Apparently  everything  was  as  he  had  left 
it. 

To  his  rapid  enumeration  the  quantity  of 
the  small  bags,  containing  his  beloved  coin,  re- 
mained undisturbed.  But,  upon  nearer  re- 
gard, one  of  them — that  within  easiest  reach — 
seemed  to  betray,  through  its  canvas  sides,  a 
variety  of  unusually  sharp  angles  and  definite 
lines. 

With  a  suffocating  sensation  of  impending 
disaster,  Raikes  grasped  the  bag. 

It  pended  from  his  tense  grip  with  a  fright- 
ful lightness.  He  caught  up  its  neighbor  for 
further  confirmation.  It  responded  with  re- 
assuring bulk  and  weight.  But  this  one  from 

[96] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

which  all  specific  gravity  seemed  to  have  de- 
parted— what  did  it  contain? 

With  trembling  hands  the  terrified  man  un- 
fastened the  cord  which  bound  it  and  inverted 
the  bag  over  the  table. 

Instead  of  the  sharp,  musical  collision  and 
clink  of  metal,  a  sodden  succession  of  thuds 
smote  his  ears. 

With  a  shriek  of  utter  wonderment  and 
alarm,  Raikes  stood  erect  and  petrified. 

His  hands  fell,  with  inert  palsies,  to  his 
sides.  His  eyes  seemed  about  to  start  from 
his  head,  for,  looming  dully  to  his  aching  gaze, 
in  place  of  the  coin  he  had  so  confidently  hid- 
den away,  was  a  rayless,  squalid  heap  of  small, 
black  coals. 

A  moment  he  stood  lean  and  limp;  every 
particle  of  the  fever  which  consumed  him  con- 
centrated in  his  starting  eyes,  which  turned, 
with  savage  inquiry,  toward  the  fastenings  of 
the  door. 

The  next  instant,  with  a  leap  like  that  of  a 
wild  beast,  he  reached  the  threshold,  examined 
the  bolt  with  vivid  glance  and  searching  fin- 

[97] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

gers,  then  rafsed  his  hand  to  his  forehead  with 
a  gesture  of  utter  distraction. 

Nothing  had  been  disturbed. 

Even  the  check-pin  which  he  had  inserted 
over  the  bar  for  additional  security  was  in 
place. 

The  only  other  possible  means  of  entrance 
was  by  a  window  at  the  other  extreme  of  the 
room. 

But  this  was  not  to  be  considered,  for  it 
opened,  with  sheer  precipitation,  upon  the  un- 
relieved front  of  the  house. 

The  windows  adjacent  were  removed  at  a 
distance  which  could  afford  no  possible  basis 
from  which  to  reach  the  one  from  which  Raikes 
glared  so  grimly. 

Moreover,  the  shutters  had  been  clasped  and 
the  inner  sash  secured. 

The  conclusion  was  inevitable. 

No  one  had  entered  the  room  during  the 
night.  It  was  impossible  for  a  stranger  to 
have  access  to  the  apartment  during  the  day 
unobserved,  and  the  recess  behind  the  radiator 
was  known  to  himself  alone. 

[98] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

Nevertheless,  there  was  the  absurd  substi- 
tution. 

It  was  incredible! 

The  secret  repository  was  of  his  own  con- 
struction. 

The  room  was  secure  against  intrusion. 

And  opposed  to  all  this  the  incontrovertible 
proof  of  his  loss,  a  catastrophe  all  the  more 
agonizing  since  the  logic  of  the  situation 
obliged  him  to  eliminate  any  one  from  sus- 
picion. 

Raikes  had  always  considered  a  loss  of  this 
character  the  climax  of  malignant  fate.  He 
had  never  been  able  to  contemplate  it  without 
the  mortal  shudder  which  usually  communi- 
cates its  chill  to  a  loving  parent  confronted  with 
the  prospect  of  the  departure  of  a  dear  one. 

The  recess  in  the  wall  contained  all  that 
Raikes  held  dear  in  the  world;  every  spasm  of 
fear,  each  contraction  of  the  heart,  always  be- 
gan and  concluded  with  the  button  which 
moved  its  protecting  bolts. 

But  now  a  new  element  added  its  ugly  em- 
phasis; there  was  something  supernatural 
about  the  episode. 

[99] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

Convinced  of  the  impossibility  of  thievery 
in  any  of  its  ordinary  forms,  he  was  bewildered 
as  to  the  inexplicable  means  of  his  present  pre- 
dicament. 

His  sense  of  security  was  shaken. 

He  promised  himself  to  stand  guard  over  his 
belongings  jealously  that  day,  and  to  make 
assurance  doubly  sure  at  night. 

In  the  meantime  Raikes  decided  to  confide 
his  misfortune  to  no  one. 

There  was  a  meager  possibility  that  the 
guilty  one  might  be  misled  by  his  silence;  he 
had  heard  of  such  cases ;  he  had  known  of  the 
culprit  offering  condolences  to  the  silent  vic- 
tim on  the  assumption  that  the  latter  had  dis- 
cussed his  mishap  with  others. 

He  would  wait,  and  with  Raikes  to  deter- 
mine was  to  do. 

With  his  obnoxious  individuality  rendered 
several  degrees  more  unendurable  by  his  catas- 
trophe, if  that  was  possible,  Raikes,  having  as- 
sumed that  portion  of  his  attire  in  which  he  had 
not  slept,  double-locked  the  door  of  his  room 
from  the  outside  with  a  brace  of  keys  that,  in 
all  likelihood,  had  not  their  duplicates  in  ex- 

[100] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

istence,  and  proceeded  to  the  dining-room, 
whither  he  had  been  preceded  by  his  parchment 
of  a  sister. 

At  once  he  began  to  rustle  his  exhausted 
sensibilities  with  an  added  menace,  awakened 
by  a  manifest  desire  on  the  part  of  the  famished 
woman  to  satisfy  the  cravings  of  an  ungrati- 
fied  hunger  with  an  extra  help  of  bread  and 
butter. 

As  he  looked  upon  the  attenuated  creature, 
with  a  morose  reflection  of  his  loss,  the  latter, 
with  a  rebellion  which  she  could  not  control, 
selected  with  trembling  fortitude  a  thick  slice 
of  bread,  which  she  buttered  liberally  and  be- 
gan to  devour  with  pathetic  haste,  despite  the 
rebuking  gleam  of  the  rat  eyes  opposite,  an 
episode  which,  added  to  his  already  perturbed 
mind,  exasperated  his  brutal  temper  to  the 
point  of  snarling  remonstrance,  which  was  for- 
tunately denied  its  utterance  by  the  opportune 
arrival  of  the  Sepoy,  who  smiled  blandly  upon 
the  chill  acknowledgment  of  the  shriveled 
Raikes. 

The  Sepoy,  at  the  conclusion  of  a  hearty  re- 
past, which  the  spinster  witnessed  with  fam- 

[101] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

ished  envy  and  Raikes  considered  with  ascetic 
disapproval,  looked,  with  a  scarcely  concealed 
disdain,  into  the  furtive,  troubled  eyes  of  the 
miser  and  said:  "I  will  see  you  to-night?" 

"Yes,"  replied  Raikes  promptly.  "I  will  be 
there." 

"Very  well;  I  will  not  return  until  the  time 
appointed,"  said  the  Sepoy.  "I  expect  to  show 
you  a  rarity." 

"Another  brilliant  aggravation?"  asked 
Raikes. 

"Ah!"  laughed  the  Sepoy,  "is  that  your  es- 
timation of  the  sapphire?" 

"Yes,"  returned  Raikes  with  acid  frankness. 
"To  be  permitted  to  appropriate  the  gleam  and 
the  radiance;  to  comprehend  the  cunning  of 
the  facets ;  to  appraise  its  magnificent  bulk  in- 
telligently, and  witness  the  careless  possession 
by  another  of  all  these  beatitudes,  I  think  that 
constitutes  an  aggravation." 

"It  has  been  known  to  degenerate  into  a 
temptation,"  continued  the  Sepoy,  reflecting 
the  cynical  humor  of  the  other. 

"Aye!"  admitted  Raikes,  "and  has  concluded 
in  surrender." 

[102] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

With  this  the  strangely  assorted  trio  left  the 
table  directly,  the  Sepoy  to  his  problematical 
business,  the  spinster  to  escape  the  reprimand 
foreshadowed  in  the  eyes  of  her  brother,  and 
Raikes  to  keep  his  treasures  under  malicious 
surveillance. 

All  that  day  his  diseased  mind  tortured  it- 
self with  impossible  theories  and  absurd  specu- 
lations, until  his  attempts  to  explain  the  curi- 
ous substitution  degenerated  into  a  perfect 
chaos  of  despair  and  bewilderment. 

With  an  impatience  he  could  not  explain, 
Raikes  at  last  presented  himself  at  the  apart- 
ment of  the  Sepoy  as  the  hour  of  ten  was 
striking. 

He  was  greeted  by  the  curious  individual 
within  with  a  demeanor  which  somehow  offend- 
ed Raikes  with  the  impression  that  his  prompt 
eagerness  was  the  subject  of  amused  calcula- 
tion. 

His  irritation,  however,  was  not  permitted 
to  develop,  for  no  sooner  had  he  seated  him- 
self in  the  chair  indicated  by  his  host  than  the 
latter  placed  upon  the  table,  within  easy  reach 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 



of  his  harassed  visitor,  a  small  box  of  leather 
and  directed  him  to  press  the  spring. 

Anticipating  something  of  the  nature  of  the 
contents  of  the  case  from  the  material  of  which 
it  was  made,  Raikes,  forgetting  for  the  moment 
the  futility  of  the  day's  researches,  pressed  his 
bony  thumb  upon  the  spring,  and  at  once  the 
lid  flew  back  like  a  protest,  disclosing  the  most 
superb  diamond  it  had  ever  been  his  misfor- 
tune to  see  and  not  possess. 

"Ah!"  he  cried  in  an  ecstasy  of  tantalized 
contemplation,  "the  glass,  the  glass!  Any- 
thing so  precious  must  have  had  commensurate 
treatment.  What  color,  what  clarity,  what 
bulk!"  and  as  the  unhappy  creature  yielded 
to  that  species  of  intoxication  which  even  the 
grace  of  God  seems  unable  to  ameliorate,  the 
Sepoy,  with  the  easy  poise  and  balance  of  in- 
tonation and  phrase  which  had  served  as  such 
facile  vehicles  for  the  previous  instalments, 
began: 

"When  the  bewildered  prince  realized  the 
meaning  of  the  worthless  heap  in  the  recess, 
prid  calculated,  with  familiar  appraisement,  the 

[104] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

immense  loss  represented  by  the  senseless  sub- 
stition,  he  stood  for  a  moment  destitute  of  all 
dignity  and  as  impotent  as  the  meanest  of  his 
household. 

"His  thin,  fine  lips,  which  usually  held  such 
firm  partnership  and  divided  his  words  with 
such  cynical  scission,  relaxed  separately  into 
the  inane  lines  of  superstitious  fear,  and  the 
luster  of  his  restless  eyes  seemed  to  have  de- 
generated into  that  surrounding  dullness  of 
sickly  white  which  would  have  provided  the 
impressionable  Lai  Lu  with  an  easy  fortitude 
to  deny  the  approaches  of  this  semi-potentate. 

"The  next  instant,  like  the  doubled  blade  of 
Toledo  steel,  the  prince  recoiled  to  his  lithe 
stature,  and  the  customary  brightness  of  his 
eyes  returned  shadowed  with  a  degree  of  crafty 
reflection. 

"One  by  one,  lest  a  stray  gem  might  be  col- 
lected with  the  worthless  debris,  like  the  crew 
of  Ulysses  clinging  to  the  sheep  of  the  Cyclops, 
Prince  Otondo  removed  the  pebbles  which  in- 
truded their  sordid  presence  in  this  scintillant 
treasure-trove  like  a  motley  of  base  subjects 
in  an  assemblage  of  the  nobility. 

[105] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

"When  the  last  of  these  worthless  objects 
had  been  cleared  from  the  recess,  the  prince 
closed  the  panel,  and  seating  himself  before  the 
rayless  heap,  surrendered  himself  to  moody  re- 
flection, like  a  disabled  enthusiast  confronted 
by  his  disillusions. 

"How  did  these  pebbles  reach  this  hiding 
place? 

"In  asking  himself  the  question,  the  prince 
had  absolute  assurance  that  it  was  impossible 
for  any  one  to  enter  his  sleeping-apartment 
without  his  knowledge. 

"The  puzzled  man  also  recollected,  with  a 
shudder,  which  he  alone  could  explain,  that 
he  had  taken  radical  means  of  making  it  im- 
possible for  the  artisan  who  had  contrived  the 
hidden  treasury  to  reveal  its  existence. 

"He  was  positive,  too,  when  he  had  retired 
the  night  before,  that  his  jewels  were  undis- 
turbed. 

"Why  just  this  exchange  of  a  handful? 

"For  what  reason  had  not  double  the  quan- 
tity been  removed?  Nay,  why  not  all,  since 
it  was  possible  to  abstract  a  portion? 

[106] 


"At  this  question  the  eerie  iteration  of  the 
merchant  returned  to  his  mind: 

'  'Pebbles  for  diamonds!' 

"At  once  the  distasteful  alternative  upon 
which  it  was  based  recurred  to  him. 

"A  quick  radiation  illumined  his  mind,  and 
subsided  to  darkness  as  promptly. 

"Ram  Lai! 

"It  was  he  who  had  indicated  the  substi- 
tution. But  the  merchant  could  no  more  en- 
ter the  room  in  which  the  prince  was  seated 
at  this  moment  than  the  most  abject  menial 
in  the  palace. 

"Still,  the  merchant  had  been  able  to  predict 
the  disaster. 

"Some  sort  of  association  existed,  but  what 
it  was,  considered  with  the  impracticability  of 
unobserved  entrance  and  exit,  was  beyond  his 
comprehension. 

"The  incredible  condition  existed. 

"In  the  light  of  its  outrageous  improbability, 
and  the  insuperable  obstacles  in  the  way  of  its 
accomplishment,  the  prince  found  himself  com- 
pelled to  dismiss  every  hypothesis. 

[107] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

"Still,  he  could  subject  Ram  Lai  to  an  in- 
vestigation that  would,  at  least,  extort  a  con- 
fession as  to  his  ability  to  allude  to  the  episode 
in  advance. 

"In  the  meantime,  with  true  Oriental  craft, 
the  prince  determined  to  say  nothing  of  his 
loss,  and  present  an  impassive  demeanor  to 
those  by  whom  he  was  surrounded. 

"With  this  purpose  the  prince  proceeded  to 
the  apartment  beyond,  and  was  about  to  strike 
the  gong  to  summon  the  servant  charged  with 
the  preparation  of  his  morning  repast,  when 
his  attention  was  attracted  to  a  slip  of  folded 
paper  fluttering  from  the  edge  of  the  table-top 
and  held  in  place  by  a  diminutive  bronze 
Buddha. 

"With  the  weird  certainty  that  this  beckon- 
ing paper  was  another  unaccountable  feature 
of  the  savage  perplexity  he  was  compelled  to 
endure,  the  prince,  approaching,  grasped  the 
folded  sheet  with  eager,  trembling  hands  and 
exposed  its  inner  surface  to  his  vivid  glance. 

'  'Ah !'  With  a  burning  sensation  about  his 
eyes,  a  fever  of  harassed  impatience  in  his 

[108] 


brain,  and  a  sense  of  suffocation  and  impotent 
rage,  he  read: 

'  'MOST  ILLUSTRIOUS! 

!  'Unless  Lai  Lu  is  returned  to  her  father 
by  nightfall,  another  handful  of  precious  stones 
will  be  replaced  by  as  many  pebbles. 
'  'And  this  to  warn  thee : 
'The  native  troops  at  Meerut  are  in  revolt. 
'They  have  shot  the  regimental  officers, 
and  have  put  to  death  every  European  they 
could  find. 

'They  are  now  on  their  way  to  Delhi  to 
proclaim  Dahbur  Dhu,  thy  grandfather,  sov- 
ereign of  Hindustan. 
"  'The  Moghul  is  old. 
'Thou  art  next  in  succession/ 

"There  was  no  signature. 

"None  was  needed ;  the  prince  had  preserved 
several  specimens  of  that  chirography  at  the 
bottom  of  various  interesting  bills  of  sale. 

"As  this  bizarre  scion  of  an  incredibly  an- 
cient regime  read  this  extraordinary  missive, 
with  its  exasperating  reference  to  the  restitu- 

[109] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

tion  of  Lai  Lu,  and  considered  the  prompt  re- 
alization of  the  threatened  reprisal  which  had 
followed  his  first  failure  to  comply  with  the 
request  of  Ram  Lai,  a  sense  of  fear  and  fu- 
tility possessed  him. 

"With  curious  apathy,  an  unaccountable 
suggestion  of  impersonality,  almost,  he  did 
not  pause  to  consider  the  absence  of  the  in- 
tolerant passion  which  his  loss  should  have 
occasioned,  or  to  wonder  at  his  bewildered  re- 
ception of  this  implication  of  further  dispos- 
session. 

"The  prince  appeared  to  be  moving  as  in  a 
spell;  but  as  he  concluded  the  remainder  of 
the  missive  and  remembered,  at  its  inspiration, 
that  he  was,  indeed,  the  grandson  of  the  Mo- 
ghul  and  the  heir-apparent  of  this  pageant 
throne  of  Delhi,  a  sensible  degree  of  his  cus- 
tomary cynical  assurance  returned. 

"Hastening  to  the  ante-room,  the  prince, 
with  alert  reanimation,  questioned  the  stal- 
wart official  who  stood  without. 

"He  indicated  to  his  master  that  the  missive 
had  been  left  upon  the  outer  sill  of  the  threshold 

[110] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

leading  from  the  ante-room  to  the  corridor 
which  opened  upon  the  courtyard. 

"Beyond  this  nothing  could  be  learned;  but 
other  and  more  absorbing  information  was 
conveyed  to  the  prince. 

"He  learned  that  several  bodies  of  Sepoys 
had  already  passed  the  palace,  on  the  high- 
way, in  the  direction  of  Delhi. 

"Startled  at  this  rapid  confirmation  of  the 
statement  conveyed  in  the  strange  communica- 
tion which  he  had  just  read,  the  prince  rapidly 
reviewed  the  singular  cause  of  the  mutiny. 

"Great  Britain  had  just  supplied  the  na- 
tive soldiery  with  the  Enfield  rifle. 

"This  weapon  was  rendered  formidable  by 
a  new  cartridge,  which,  in  order  that  it  might 
not  bind  in  the  barrel  bore,  was  greased  in 
England  with  the  fat  of  beef  or  pork. 

"With  incredible  indifference  to  the  preju- 
dices of  the  Sepoys,  the  military  authorities 
at  Calcutta  ordered  the  low-caste  Lascars  to 
prepare  the  cartridges  in  a  similar  manner. 

"To  this  direct  invitation  disaster  was  not 
slow  to  respond. 

"The  fat  of  pigs  was  sufficient  to  make  a 

[111] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

degenerate  of  a  Mohammedan;  and  to  devour 
the  flesh  of  cows  converted  a  Hindoo  into  a 
Mussulman. 

"In  this  manner  had  Tippu  Sultan  enforced 
the  faith  of  Islam  on  hordes  of  Brahmins,  and 
with  the  abomination  of  pork  had  the  Afghans 
prevailed  upon  the  Hindoo  Sepoys,  captured 
in  the  Kabul  war,  to  become  Mohammedans. 

"Exasperated  by  the  unconcealed  contempt 
of  the  Brahmins,  the  Lascars,  with  an  easily 
understood  rancor,  managed  to  convey  the 
startling  information  to  their  detested  superi- 
ors that  the  cartridges  they  bit  in  loading  the 
new  rifles  were  greased  with  the  fat  of  cows, 
and  that  they  were,  in  consequence,  defiled, 
and  their  boasted  caste  supremacy  was  de- 
stroyed. 

"This  revelation,  so  momentous  to  the  Hin- 
doo, found  its  way  first  to  Barrackpore  by  rea- 
son of  its  nearness  to  Calcutta. 

"At  once  an  indescribable  panic  ensued,  and 
in  a  marvelously  short  time  every  native  regi- 
ment in  Bengal  was  confronted  with  the  possi- 
bility of  lost  caste,  and  terrified  at  the  conse- 
quent belief  that  the  British  Government  was 

[112] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

making  an  attempt  to  Anglicize  them  with 
beef  as  they  had  already  attempted  to  do  with 
beer. 

"The  account  of  the  greased  cartridges,  em- 
bellished as  it  speeded,  traveled,  with  the  ra- 
pidity which  usually  expedites  evil  rumor, 
along  the  Ganges  and  Jumna  to  Benares,  Alla- 
habad, Agra,  Delhi  and  Meerut,  and  the  Brit- 
ish authorities  were  confronted  with  a  revolt 
which  was  to  cost  thousands  of  men  and  count- 
less treasure. 

"As  the  prince  reflected  upon  the  fever  of 
events,  and  calculated  their  possible  conse- 
quence to  himself,  the  ambition — often  nap- 
ping, seldom  in  slumber — which  he  secretly 
cherished,  awoke  to  disturbing  vividness. 

"His  allowance  was  ample;  his  retinue,  all 
things  considered,  impressive;  and  the  Kutub, 
although  in  a  state  of  disrepair  in  certain  por- 
tions, was  still  unmistakably  a  royal  residence. 
But  he  was  thoroughly  weary  of  the  massive 
pile,  and  increasingly  exasperated  at  the  in- 
terdict of  Delhi. 

"Certain  salacious  possibilities  within  its 
walls  still  made  their  insidious  appeals  to  him, 

[113] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

and  he  had  not  forgotten  the  ceremonious  def- 
erence accorded  him  in  the  household  of  the 
Moghul. 

"At  the  Kutub  he  had  to  contrive  his  own 
dissipations  and  excesses. 

"There  was  no  need  to  be  clandestine. 

"The  very  frankness  of  his  privileges  dis- 
couraged his  imagination.  There  was  no  spice 
of  jeopardy  in  them ;  no  preludes  of  intrigue. 

"To  relieve  this  surfeit,  which  is  the  worst 
of  monotonies,  eagerly  would  the  prince  have 
joined  the  revolting  troops,  detachments  of 
which  he  could  perceive  from  the  walls  of  the 
Kutub  hastening  along  the  sun-scorched  high- 
way to  Delhi. 

"But  his  semi-majesty  was  cautious. 

"It  was  characteristic  of  him  that  his  mature 
reflections  should  frequently  place  his  impulse 
under  obligations ;  a  condition  that  had  resulted 
in  many  a  salutary  compromise  with  some  pro- 
posed moral  abandon. 

"Should  he  show  the  slightest  countenance 
to  the  native  troops  in  the  present  emergency, 
the  record  of  such  an  attitude  would  constitute 
anything  but  a  passport  to  the  continued  con- 

[114] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

sideration  of  the  British  Government,  upon 
whose  sufferance  he  not  only  enjoyed  his  pres- 
ent magnificent  residence,  but  the  acknowledg- 
ment of  his  right  of  succession  as  well. 

"The  prince  was  not  yet  inclined  to  believe 
that  the  Sepoys  could  make  headway  against 
his  detested  patrons. 

"However,  with  his  mind  stimulated  by  the 
hazard  of  the  prospect,  this  picturesque  heir- 
apparent,  who  had  assured  himself,  since  his 
perusal  of  the  unaccountably  delivered  missive, 
that  Ram  Lai  had  no  intention  of  making  his 
appearance  that  day,tat  least,  returned  to  the 
apartment  where  his  morning  repast  awaited 
him,  which  he  dispatched  with  the  preoccupied 
impersonality  of  a  savant  who  consults  his 
timepiece  in  order  to  determine  the  tempera- 
ture. 

"Advised  of  the  fact  that  he  had  finished  by 
a  disposition  to  ignore  his  remaining  privi- 
leges, the  prince,  as  if  to  pursue  the  direction 
of  the  unseeing  gaze  which  he  projected  into 
space,  rose  slowly,  and  with  that  moody  delib- 
eration which  is  so  often  the  outward  manifes- 
tation of  an  ignoble  as  well  as  an  elevated  de- 

[116] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

termination,  proceeded  to  the  silken  arras  and 
disappeared  from  view  between  the  folds. 

"Quickly  he  traversed  the  passageway  lead- 
ing to  the  apartments  of  Lai  Lu;  and  in  re- 
sponse to  a  light  touch  upon  the  gong  the  same 
servile  apparition  emerged  and  vanished,  with 
cringing  obedience,  down  the  passage. 

"With  a  gleam  in  his  eyes,  which  might  have 
caused  a  magistrate  to  reflect  or  a  moralist  to 
anticipate,  that  was  both  sinister  and  engaging, 
eager  and  speculative,  the  prince,  with  a  ges- 
ture that  was  not  without  its  impatient  majesty 
and  lithe  impressiveness,  swept  aside  the  cur- 
tains which  guarded  the  entrance  to  the  small 
ante-room  and  stepped  within." 

As  the  Sepoy  reached  this  point  of  the  nar- 
rative, arranged,  perhaps,  with  shrewd  malice 
to  tantalize  his  eager  listener,  an  expression  of 
libidinous  expectation  and  depraved  absorp- 
tion deepened  upon  the  countenance  of  the  lat- 
ter, who,  like  an  animal  deprived  of  its  prey, 
looked  up  suddenly  as  the  narrator  paused, 
with  an  exasperation  which  he  made  little  at- 
tempt to  conceal. 

[116] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

"Hell!"  he  muttered,  "why  do  you  pause? 
It  is  not  late.  This  is  an  irritating  trick  of 
yours  to  leave  off  at  the  crucial  juncture." 

"Ha,  ha!"  laughed  the  Sepoy  mirthlessly. 
"You  have  attended  me,  then?  Well,  I  can't 
admit  you  with  the  prince  until  to-morrow  eve- 
ning. I  have  much  to  do  ere  I  retire." 

"This  is  my  dismissal,  I  presume,"  respond- 
ed Raikes  sourly  as  he  replaced  the  gem,  from 
which  he  seemed  unable  to  remove  his  thieving 
eyes. 

"Here,  take  this  damned  thing;  it  has  de- 
moralized me,"  and  placing  the  shagreen  case, 
with  its  priceless  contents,  in  the  hands  of  the 
evilly-smiling  Sepoy,  he  disappeared  through 
the  doorway. 

Arrived  at  the  door  which  opened  upon  his 
room,  Raikes  was  assured,  by  the  familiar  re- 
sponse of  the  locks  to  the  pressure  of  his  ex- 
traordinary keys,  that  his  precautions  of  a 
few  hours  before  had  been  undisturbed. 

Moreover,  his  sister,  seated  in  her  room  in  a 
chair  so  placed  as  to  command  a  view  of  the 
doorway  opposite,  and  looking  more  effaced 
than  ever  from  the  weary  vigil  which  her  heart- 

[  in  ] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

less  brother  had  imposed  upon  her  during  his 
absence,  advised  him  of  the  customary  isola- 
tion and  depression  which  distinguished  this 
barren  household. 

Within,  Raikes  began  to  make  himself 
secure  for  the  night. 

He  double-locked  the  door,  placed  the  heavy 
bar  in  the  iron  shoulders,  over  which  he  in- 
serted a  stout  iron  pin. 

A  brief  investigation  convinced  him  that  it 
was  out  of  the  question  to  open  the  shutters 
from  without. 

Satisfied  upon  these  points,  Raikes  proceed- 
ed to  the  radiator,  which  for  a  trembling  space 
of  apprehension  he  forbore  to  open. 

However,  since  it  was  certainty  he  wanted, 
the  valves  shortly  swung  toward  him,  the  inner 
door  responded  to  the  sesame  of  his  touch,  and 
the  recess  containing  the  tenets  of  his  religion 
was  exposed  to  view. 

With  trembling  hands,  which  indicated  the 
latent  fear  which  unnerved  him,  and  eyes  ach- 
ing with  anxiety,  the  wretched  man  examined 
bag  after  bag  of  his  precious  coin  with  the 
solicitude  one  sees  manifested  by  parents  whose 

[118] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

children  are  rendered  doubly  dear  by  the  taking 
away  of  one  of  their  number. 

"Ah!"  With  a  sigh,  the  relief  of  which  al- 
most concluded  in  physical  collapse,  Raikes 
was  able  to  assure  himself  that  his  rapid  in- 
ventory revealed  no  further  loss. 

Replacing  his  treasure  with  the  indisposition 
he  usually  manifested  to  leave  the  vicinity  of 
his  hoard,  the  miser  closed  the  various  compart- 
ments with  more  than  his  accustomed  certitude 
and  began  to  prepare  to  respond  to  the  lassi- 
tude of  sleep  which,  for  some  unaccountable 
reason,  was  unusually  insistent. 

With  the  easy  partition  of  attire  already 
noted,  Raikes  presently  found  himself  ready 
to  tuck  himself  away  for  the  night,  which  he 
did  after  rolling  his  bedstead  directly  in  front 
of  the  false  radiator. 

This  unusual  measure  of  precaution  consum- 
mated, Raikes,  with  the  first  sense  of  security 
he  had  felt  for  the  last  twenty-four  hours,  pres- 
ently succumbed  to  a  sleep  remarkable  for  its 
quick  approach  and  its  subsequent  soundness. 

Until  early  dawn,  with  the  relaxation  which 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

is  commonly  the  reward  of  innocence,  Raikes 
slept  away  in  unconscious  travesty. 

And  when  at  last  he  opened  his  eyes  he  was 
as  alertly  awake  as  he  had  been  profoundly 
asleep. 

With  a  promptness  due  to  his  retiring  fore- 
bodings, his  habitual  unrest  and  suspicion  re- 
turned to  him. 

He  was  as  vitally  alive  to  the  disturbing  con- 
ditions of  the  day  before  as  if  they  had  been 
the  subjects  of  an  all-night  meditation. 

But  the  confidence  of  his  bolts  and  bars,  the 
recollection  of  his  unusual  measures  of  safety, 
reassured  him  somewhat. 

It  was,  therefore,  with  a  degree  of  compo- 
sure he  approached  the  door  and  satisfied  him- 
self that  the  bar  and  the  locks  had  been  un- 
disturbed. 

With  equal  assurance  he  rolled  the  bedstead 
from  the  radiator  and  pressed  the  button  which 
operated  the  concealed  spring,  with  a  delibera- 
tion in  which  no  suggestion  of  uneasiness  ap- 
peared. 

A  quick  revolution  or  so  and  the  inner  recess 
was  revealed. 

[120] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

To  his  rapid  accounting  the  quantity  of  bags 
was  the  same,  and  their  relative  positions, 
which  he  had  so  carefully  arranged  the  night 
before,  were  undisturbed — but  this  one,  that 
within  easiest  reach !  What  was  it  caused  those 
sharp  suggestions  in  its  accustomed  rotundity 
— those  angular  points  ? 

In  a  quiver  the  man  was  transformed. 

With  a  cry  such  as  must  have  been  forced 
from  the  Jew  of  old,  compelled  by  the  rough 
levies  of  his  time  to  part  at  once  with  his  teeth 
and  his  treasure,  Raikes  grasped  the  bag,  which 
came  away  in  his  clutch  with  the  agonizing 
lightness  that  had  preceded  his  first  loss. 

Quickly  he  unfastened  the  mouth  of  the  fate- 
ful packet  and  inverted  it  over  the  table. 

The  next  instant  there  rattled  to  view  a  soul- 
less, sodden  shower  of  lack-luster,  heart-break- 
ing coals. 

(To  be  continued  on  Dickey  No.  2,  Series  B.) 

"Ah,  ha!"  exclaimed  Dennis,  "an'  it's  there 
ye  are  again,"  as  the  familiar  phrase  at  the 
bottom  of  bosom  No.  1  met  his  glance. 

[lit] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

But  it  did  not  exasperate  him  on  this  oc- 
casion, for  the  young  man,  true  to  his  deter- 
mination to  be  liberal  with  himself,  had  still 
bosoms  No.  2  and  No.  3  at  his  disposal. 

As  he  was  about  to  separate  No.  2  from  its 
duplicate,  his  eyes,  glancing  aimlessly  about  for 
the  moment,  caught  sight  of  a  trim  female  fig- 
ure sitting  not  far  away  on  a  bench  diagonally 
opposite. 

Hovering  near  her,  a  man,  of  a  species 
Dennis  had  not  seen  before  on  the  street  cor- 
ners of  New  York,  seemed  determined  to 
intrude  upon  her  attention. 

Convinced  of  his  purpose,  the  lady,  for  such 
she  unmistakably  appeared,  rose  from  the  seat 
as  the  fellow  was  about  to  raise  his  hat  as  a 
preliminary  to  further  overtures,  and  sought 
another  bench  directly  opposite  the  one  from 
which  Dennis  had  been  a  witness  to  her  ap- 
parent persecution. 

The  intruder,  however,  refusing  evidently  to 
believe  that  the  action  of  the  lady  had  a  per- 
sonal application,  deliberately  walked  past  this 
new  resting  place  and  surveyed  its  occupant 
with  insolent  estimation. 

[122] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

A  short  distance  away  his  pace  slackened; 
he  was  about  to  return. 

With  genuine  Irish  impulse,  Dennis,  rising 
hurriedly,  proceeded  to  the  bench  occupied  by 
the  disturbed  lady,  and,  with  a  bow  that  was 
not  deficient  in  grace  and  evident  good  inten- 
tion, said: 

"Excuse  me,  but  say  the  wurrd,  madam,  and 
I'll  see  that  you  are  troubled  no  more  with 
that  loafer." 

For  an  instant,  with  an  expression  of  coun- 
tenance that  suggested  a  fear  that  the  flight 
from  one  intrusion  was  but  the  introduction  to 
another,  the  lady  looked  upon  Dennis  with  an 
astonishment  that  was  partly  the  result  of  his 
picturesque  contrasts  of  voice  and  visage. 

Then,  with  fine  intuition  realizing,  in  the 
ingenuous  face  of  the  young  Irishman,  the  un- 
mistakable evidence  of  kindly  impulse,  she  said, 
with  a  modulation  in  which  Dennis  was  able  to 
detect  the  accent  of  good  breeding: 

"I  thank  you,  sir;  I  am  tired;  that  man  an- 
noys me ;  but  I  would  rather  move  on  than  be 
the  cause  of  a  disturbance." 

"If  you  will  permit  me,"  responded  Dennis 

[123] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

promptly,  "I  will  sit  beside  you  long  enough 
to  indicate  that  you  have  met  a  friend;  then  I 
think  that  he  will  move  off." 

The  lady  looked  at  Dennis  with  an  uncertain 
smile,  in  which  there  was  just  enough  restraint 
to  urge  the  young  man  to  add  hastily:  "An* 
when  he  is  gone  for  good,  I  will  go  too." 

"Oh,  I  was  not  thinking  of  that,  I  assure 
you!"  the  lady  hastened  to  say.  "That  would 
be  rather  ungrateful  on  my  part.  I  accept 
your  suggestion.  May  I  ask  you  to  be  seated  ?" 
and  Dennis  promptly  complied. 

As  he  had  predicted,  the  fellow,  who  had  wit- 
nessed the  conversation,  was  compelled  to  ac- 
cept its  ostensible  suggestion,  and  departed 
finally  with  a  nonchalant  shrug  of  his  shoulders 
and  a  Tammany  tilt  of  his  hat  over  his  eye- 
brows. 

In  yielding  to  his  gallant  impulse,  Dennis 
was  unaware  of  the  fact  that  he  held,  with  not 
exactly  picturesque  abandon,  bosom  No.  1  in 
his  right  hand  and  the  other  two  in  his  left, 
which  gave  him  the  appearance  of  having  dis- 
posed, in  some  violent  way,  of  the  remainder 
of  several  shirts. 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

Awakened  by  the  puzzled  amusement  de- 
picted in  the  curious  gaze  with  which  the  lady 
surveyed  the  various  bosoms  which  he  held,  and 
encouraged  by  the  impromptu  nature  of  the 
entire  episode,  Dennis,  as  he  realized  the  spec- 
tacle which  he  presented,  indulged  himself  in 
a  frank  laugh,  in  which  his  companion  seemed 
inclined  to  join. 

The  next  moment  he  apologized,  and,  yield- 
ing to  the  obligation  enforced  by  the  situation, 
explained  his  possession  of  the  dickey  bosoms 
and  the  curious  storyiwhich  had  gone  before. 

As  he  proceeded  with  the  candor  of  genu- 
ine enthusiasm,  and  related  the  incredible  nar- 
rative in  his  rich,  Irish  brogue,  which  affected 
his  hearer,  as  it  did  every  one  else,  with  such 
singular  sentiments  in  contrast  with  his  re- 
markable countenance,  all  traces  of  punctilious 
restraint  and  artificial  reticence  vanished,  and 
with  the  mien  of  one  who  proposes  to  extract 
all  the  entertainment  possible  from  an  un- 
dreamed of  experience,  the  lady  urged  Dennis 
to  continue. 

"I  can't  do  that  unless  I  read  the  balance 

«•  i 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

from  the  dickey,"  said  Dennis.  "Would  you 
mind?" 

"I  should  like  it  very  much,"  replied  the  lady 
with  gratifying  readiness. 

"Well,  then,"  said  Dennis,  "here  goes,"  and 
with  his  musical  voice,  which  was  one  of  his 
most  inviting  characteristics,  the  young  man, 
on  the  basis  of  all  that  had  preceded  the  bosom 
from  which  he  was  about  to  read,  and  which 
he  had  narrated  to  his  auditor  with  refreshing 
verve  and  an  ingenuousness  whose  vitalizing 
effect  upon  her  sensibilities  he  was  far  from 
suspecting,  began. 


[1*6  I 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 


CHAPTER  VI 

WHOEVER  has  witnessed  Kean's  superb  de- 
lineation of  the  ruthless  Richard  in  the  scene 
where,  in  the  illusion  of  his  dying  agony, 
swordless,  he  continues  to  lunge  and  feint,  may 
comprehend  the  frightful  mental  overturn 
which  prompted  Raikes  to  sink  inertly  into  a 
chair  near  the  table,  and  with  foam-flecked  lips 
fall  to  counting,  one  by  one,  the  miserable  coals 
in  the  dull  heap  before  him. 

A  silly  smile  overspread  his  sharp  features 
like  an  apologetic  sunbeam  intruding  upon  a 
bleak  landscape. 

A  gleam  of  shrewd  transaction  shone  in  his 
eyes. 

The  clutch  of  unwonted  acquisition  con- 
tracted his  hands. 

Slowly  he  made  partition  of  the  large  from 
the  small  coals;  regretfully  he  acknowledged 
the  presence  of  the  lesser  bits  as,  with  a 

[1271 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

chuckle  of  greedy  appreciation,  he  grouped  the 
relative  piles. 

"Ha,  ha!  ha,  ha!  ha,  ha!"  What  a  laugh! 
What  a  frightful  mockery  of  mirth!  "Ha,  ha! 
ha,  ha!"  and  raising  both  hands  above  his  head 
he  brought  them  down  upon  the  table  with  the 
lax  inertia  of  utter  collapse,  and  fell  forward 
upon  his  extended  arms,  his  face  buried  in  the 
squalid  heap  beneath. 

For  a  dreary  hour  he  lay  there  without  the 
twitch  of  a  muscle,  the  well  of  a  sigh. 

Like  a  Cyclop's  eye  the  button  at  the  bottom 
of  the  concave  in  the  wall  seemed  to  stare  with 
wonder  upon  this  unfamiliar  Raikes,  who  could 
thus  permit  the  radiator  to  swing  open  so  heed- 
lessly, and  the  inner  recess  to  expose  its  golden 
glut. 

Suddenly  there  came  a  sharp  rap  upon  the 
door,  then  a  pause ;  but  its  quick  reverberations 
were  unheeded  by  the  prostrate  man. 

Again  the  thuds  were  administered  to  the 
echoing  panels,  and  still  no  response. 

"Uncle,  I  say,  uncle!"  cried  a  man's  voice. 
"Uncle!"  and  the  shout  was  followed  by  a  vig- 

[128] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

orous  kick^upon  the  woodwork;  "Uncle! 
Uncle!" 

At  this  last  appeal  Raikes  stirred  uneasily, 
and  as  the  assault  was  continued  with  still 
greater  stress,  he  managed  finally  to  stagger 
uncertainly  to  his  feet. 

As  he  raised  his  head  to  listen  to  the  clamor 
without,  the  meanness  of  his  face,  emphasized 
by  the  smudges  of  the  coal  in  which  it  had  so 
recently  reposed,  presented  itself  to  the  scan- 
dalized eye  in  the  wall. 

The  miserable  creature  depicted  the  last  de- 
gree of  absurdity,  and  yet  the  ugly  pathos  of 
it  all  would  have  moved  to  pity. 

"Uncle,  I  say!"  and  at  the  sound  of  the 
voice,  which  he  recognized  as  that  of  his  lusty 
nephew,  Raikes,  with  a  return  of  his  accus- 
tomed intelligence,  which  had  received  its  kind- 
ly repairs  at  the  hands  of  nature  during  his 
brief  coma,  cried  sharply:  "Well,  well!" 

"Ah!"  exclaimed  the  voice  outside  with  an 
unmistakable  accent  of  relief  in  its  tone  as  it 
added,  with  unlettered  eagerness:  "It's  me — 
Bob!" 

However,  if  his  reawakened  animation  had 

[129] 


revived  his  deadened  spirit,  it  also  restored  the 
appreciation  of  his  disaster,  as,  with  a  glance  of 
vivid  comprehension,  he  looked  from  the  coal 
heap  to  the  register,  toward  which  he  leaped 
with  astonishing  agility. 

In  an  instant  the  inner  recess  was  secure; 
in  another  the  radiator  was  replaced,  and 
Raikes,  proceeding  to  the  door,  raised  the  bar, 
unlocked  the  catches  and  exclaimed,  "Enter!" 

As  the  hreezy  Bob  crossed  the  threshold,  the 
question  of  his  eyes  was  instantly  transformed 
to  an*  expression  of  utter  astonishment  as  he 
beheld  the  extraordinary  blend  of  soil  and 
pallor  upon  the  countenance  of  his  uncle. 

"For  the  Lord's  sake!"  he  cried,  "what  ails 
your  face?"  and  strongly  tempted  to  laugh  at 
the  absurd  spectacle,  and  as  urgently  impelled 
to  restrain  himself  by  the  glittering  eyes  of  the 
raging  Raikes,  he  added,  by  way  of  apology 
for  his  noisy  intrusion: 

"We  knew  that  you  were  in  here,  but  could 
not  make  you  hear  us.  You  are  almost  two 
hours  beyond  your  usual  time." 

Directly  in  the  rear  of  the  young  man  stood 

[  130  ] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

the  spinster,  who  gazed  with  widened  eyes  and 
parted  lips  upon  her  brother's  soiled  visage. 

"Well,"  snarled  Raikes,  "I  am  all  right,  you 
see;  now  leave  me  until  I  get  myself  in  shape 
to  make  an  appearance." 

As  the  door  closed  behind  the  pair,  Raikes 
hurried  to  the  mirror,  and  above  the  crack 
which  extended,  like  a  spasm,  diagonally  across 
its  surface  he  beheld  his  bloodless  cheeks  and 
forehead,  and  below,  the  dry  slit  of  his  mouth 
and  his  chin  spattered  with  black  and  white. 

As  he  witnessed  the  sorry  sight,  the  un^ 
happy  man,  unable  for  the  moment  to  account 
for  his  plight,  stood  aghast,  until  his  gaze, 
penetrating  to  the  rear  of  his  smudged  physi- 
ognomy, beheld  the  reflection  of  the  coal  heaps 
upon  the  table. 

At  once  a  savage  grin  distorted  his  features 
into  the  degree  of  ugliness  not  already  accom- 
plished by  its  dusky  resting  place  of  the  hour 
previous.  A  grin  that  was  scarcely  human  and  * 
almost  diabolical,  as  if  the  miserable  creature 
had  caught  sight  of  the  shriveled  soul  peering 
through  the  chinks  which  imprisoned  his  rat 

[131] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

eyes  and  found  a  malignant  enjoyment  in  the 
contemplation  of  its  contemptible  littleness. 

From  this  debasing  inspection  Raikes  turned 
slowly  to  the  washstand  to  remove  the  grime 
from  his  face,  with  an  impersonal  deliberation 
that  was  not  only  unnatural  under  the  circum- 
stances, but  which  awakened  the  eerie  sugges- 
tion that  he  was  expending  his  effort  upon  an- 
other than  himself. 

From  this  moment  he  became  strangely 
calm;  the  sharp  decision  of  his  lips  was  never 
so  pronounced. 

A  baleful,  unwavering  gleam  distinguished 
his  glance.  He  had  evidently  arrived  at  some 
determination,  one  that  levied  upon  the  last 
limit  of  his  endurance. 

All  that  day  the  unhappy  man  sat  in  his 
room,  sullen  and  pondering. 

The  timid  offers  of  nourishment  made  by  his 
sister  were  either  ignored  or  refused  with  such 
an  ill  grace  that  she  finally  forbore  further 
overtures  and  left  him  to  his  morose  reflec- 
tions, to  improve  her  opportunities  of  enjoy- 
ing, unrebuked,  the  privileges  of  the  table,  un- 
til, by  nightfall,  an  indigestion,  which  she 

[  132  1 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

welcomed  on  account  of  its  occasion,  disturbed 
her  with  its  unfamiliar  pangs. 

In  response  to  his  nephew's  concern  as  to 
his  condition  Raikes  replied  by  saying:  "I 
may  have  something  to  tell  you  by  eleven 
o'clock  to-night;  will  you  be  on  hand?" 

"Sure!"  answered  Bob  with  breezy  good- 
will. 

From  time  to  time  Raikes  glanced  at  the 
clock. 

His  last  scrutiny  had  revealed  the  hour  of 
nine.  Sixty  interminable  minutes  more  re- 
mained ere  he  could  see  the  Sepoy. 

Slowly  the  leaden  hands  crawled  over  the 
indifferent  face. 

At  last  the  half  hour  struck. 

A  strange  impatience  possessed  him. 

Perhaps  the  Sepoy  might  begin  a  little 
earlier  than  usual.  He  could,  at  least,  suggest 
such  a  courtesy  by  his  precipitation ;  it  was  far 
better  than  this  unendurable  wait. 

With  this  anticipation  he  decided  to  pro- 
ceed to  the  apartment  of  this  singular  narrator. 

After  taking  his  usual  precautions,  which 
seemed  more  or  less  of  a  mockery  in  view  of 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

the  succession  of  disasters  which  had  overtaken 
him,  and  again  establishing  the  spinster  in  a 
position  where  she  could  maintain  an  unob- 
structed view  of  the  entrance  to  his  room, 
Raikes  proceeded  hurriedly  along  the  various 
passageways,  which  finally  concluded  in  his 
point  of  destination. 

He  rapped  gently  upon  the  door,  which  he 
discovered  to  be  slightly  ajar. 

There  was  no  response. 

His  second  attempt  to  attract  attention  was 
pronounced  enough  to  urge  the  door  aside  and 
enable  him  to  make  a  comprehensive  survey  of 
the  interior. 

It  was  unoccupied;  and  of  his  last  assault 
upon  the  panel  the  only  recognition  was  a 
sullen  echo  in  the  hallway. 

About  to  retire,  his  glance  fell  upon  the 
table  in  the  center  of  the  room. 

At  once  a  sudden  trembling  seized  him. 

A  burning  fever  surged  through  his  veins; 
an  irresistible  impulse  overwhelmed;  for  there, 
in  inconceivable  negligence,  lay  the  shagreen 
case  which  he  had  so  reluctantly  returned  to  its 
owner  only  the  night  before. 

[134] 


TPIE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

And  then — the  malign  agreement  of  his  out- 
ward husk  with  his  inner  degradation  was  re- 
vealed. 

His  eyes,  already  criminal,  reflected  the 
kaleidoscopic  succession  of  temptation  and  sur- 
render ;  desire  and  thievery. 

He  scanned  the  passageway  without  in  either 
direction. 

No  one  was  in  sight. 

A  silence  of  respectable  retirement  pre- 
vailed that  enabled  him  to  hear  his  heart- 
beats almost,  which  surged  along  his  veins  to 
his  ears  and  stifled  the  final  gasp  of  the  still, 
small  voice  within. 

The  next  instant,  with  a  lithe  animal  leap  of 
astonishing  quickness,  Raikes,  darting  into  the 
apartment,  grasped  the  precious  case  and  re- 
treated as  rapidly  over  the  threshold. 

Scarcely  had  the  stealthy  rogue  vanished 
from  the  room  when  the  door  of  a  closet  in  the 
rear  opened  softly  and  revealed  the  Sepoy. 

Upon  his  face  a  smile,  surely  evil,  otherwise 
inscrutable,  appeared,  as  he  proceeded  to  the 
chair  by  the  table,  turned  down  the  light  in 
the  lamp  a  trifle,  and  abstracted  from  his 

[  135  J 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

waistcoat  pocket  a  small  red  case,  the  contents 
of  which  he  examined  with  absorbed  attention. 

Arrived  at  his  room,  Raikes  was  elated  to 
discover  that  he  was  not  due  at  the  Sepoy's 
apartment  until  twenty  minutes  later. 

"What  a  providence!"  he  murmured. 

He  would  arrive  late;  he  would  make  his 
approach  as  ostensible  as  possible;  he  would 
apologize  for  his  tardiness. 

His  alibi  would  be  perfect. 

During  these  proposed  depravities  Raikes 
had  closed  and  fastened  the  door,  seated  him- 
self at  the  table,  and  pressed  the  spring  which 
detained  the  lid  of  the  shagreen  case. 

In  a  dazzling  instant  it  flew  open. 

"Ah !"  A  very  riot  of  irradiation  and  gleam 
met  his  eyes. 

Here  was  rehabilitation!  Here  was  amend- 
ment! 

The  diamond  was  a  liberal  equivalent  for 
his  losses. 

Another  glance  at  the  clock  revealed  to  him 
that  he  had  exhausted  ten  minutes  in  his  ex- 
ultation, 

[130] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

This  left  a  balance  of  ten  minutes  for  a  com- 
punction or  two. 

Apparently  he  did  not  realize  his  opportu- 
nity, for  half  of  the  remaining  time  was  con- 
sumed in  the  intoxication  of  the  facets  and  the 
glamor,  the  thrill  of  intelligent  valuation;  and 
the  other  half  to  a  grim  calculation  as  to  the 
usury  that  might  accrue  after  the  account  with 
his  losses  was  balanced. 

These  perjured  figures  were  scarcely  ar- 
ranged to  his  satisfaction  when  the  clock  struck 
ten. 

The  strokes  seemed  like  as  many  separate 
accusations. 

"Bah!  what  are  they  to  me?"  he  asked  him- 
self. He  had  been  robbed ;  he  had  found  a  way 
to  restitution;  a  man's  providence  must  meas- 
ure to  his  necessities. 

To  arrive  at  these  conclusions  put  him  five 
minutes  in  arrears.  Five  more  for  a  leisurely 
arrival  would  be  ten ;  enough  to  apologize  for ; 
sufficient  for  his  purposes. 

He  consumed  as  much  time  as  possible 
secreting  the  stone  in  the  recess.  That  accom- 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

plished,  Raikes  emerged  from  his  room  and 
proceeded  down  the  hallway. 

When  he  reached  the  apartment  occupied  by 
the  Sepoy  he  breathed  a  sigh  of  relief. 

The  door  was  closed. 

In  response  to  his  rap  upon  the  panel,  a 
voice  which  he  recognized  as  that  of  the  Sepoy 
cried:  "Come  in!" 

With  a  sinking  sensation  in  the  pit  of  his 
stomach,  where,  with  him,  the  only  conscience 
he  had  was  located,  Raikes  complied  with  these 
instructions,  and,  closing  the  door  softly,  es- 
tablished himself,  in  his  customary  expectant 
attitude,  in  the  chair  indicated  by  his  host. 

"I  have  been  told,"  began  the  latter  abrupt- 
ly, "that  there  is  a  flaw  in  the  sapphire." 

"What!"  exclaimed  Raikes  with  genuine 
concern.  Two  things  he  could  comprehend: 
a  loss  and  the  abuse  of  property.  The  an- 
nouncement of  the  Sepoy  awakened  the  same 
misgiving  which  commonly  affected  his  mind 
at  a  suggestion  of  defective  title. 

"Yes,"  continued  the  Sepoy;  "it  was  pointed 
out  to  me.  But  I  am  not  convinced,  or  it  may 
be  that  I  refuse  to  be.  A  man  often  elects  to 

[138] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

be  blind  when  confronted  with  a  suggestion  of 
disaster.  I  want  to  be  candid  with  myself. 
I  require  your  assistance.  While  I  continue 
the  narrative,  kindly  see  if  you  can  discover 
any  sign  of  blemish." 

Raikes,  only  too  willing  to  engage  himself 
upon  anything  which  would  assist  his  attempt 
at  outward  poise,  seized  the  glass  offered  him 
and  began  a  close  inspection  of  the  gem,  as 
the  Sepoy,  with  an  indescribably  insinuating 
modulation,  resumed : 

"As  the  prince  advanced,  Lai  Lu,  advised 
of  his  approach  by  the  hasty  exit  of  the  waiting- 
woman  and  the  soft  alarm  of  the  gong  in  the 
passageway,  stood  ready  to  receive  him. 

"A  slight  flush  suffused  her  cheeks,  a 
brighter  luster  beamed  from  her  eyes. 

"With  a  fervor  which  was  evidently  unem- 
barrassed by  any  anticipation  of  denial,  the 
prince  approached  the  trembling  Lai  Lu,  who 
seemed  to  his  enamored  glance  unspeakably 
bewitching  in  the  graceful  attitude,  of  which 
she  was  thoroughly  unconscious,  which  she  had 
naturally  assumed,  and  which  gave  unmistaka- 

[139] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

ble  expression  to  the  hope,  trepidation  and  re- 
gard awakened  by  his  presence. 

"And  yet  his  eagerness  was  not  reflected. 

"There  was  little  in  the  demeanor  of  the 
beautiful  girl  that  was  responsive;  no  indica- 
tion of  the  sweet  surrender  that  doubly  endears, 
and  which  makes  such  irresistible  appeals  for 
protection  and  sensitive  understanding  to  a 
man  worthy  of  the  name;  and  what  evidences 
of  confusion  she  betrayed  were  rather  those 
which  commonly  prelude  the  execution  of  un- 
welcome resolution;  a  suggestion  of  a  lurking 
disposition  to  readmit  the  Peri  into  Paradise, 
restrained  by  a  knowledge  of  conditions  un- 
fulfilled. 

"With  the  rapid  interchange  and  subtle 
apprehension  characteristic  of  a  passion  which 
has  no  definite  assurances  as  to  its  right  to 
monopolize  the  regard  of  the  object  of  jealous 
consideration,  the  prince  was  compelled  to  ac- 
knowledge, in  these  vague  suggestions,  an  in- 
tangible but  no  less  real  succession  of  barriers 
opposed  to  his  ardent  advances,  and  with  a 
scarcely  concealed  and  certainly  undiplomatic 

[140] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

irritation  he  paused  before  Lai  Lu  and 
demanded : 

"  'What  is  it,  Lai  Lu?  Thou  art  not  glad 
to  see  me.  I  expected  a  reception  other  than 
this.' 

*  'My  father?'  demanded  Lai  Lu,  ignoring 
the  question  and  the  yearning  intonation  of  his 
address,  each  word  of  which  was  like  a  caress ; 
'my  father,  what  of  him?' 

'  'Ah !'  muttered  the  prince  with  deepening 
choler  at  the  disturbing  conditions  introduced 
by  the  name,  and  a  gleam  strangely  suggestive 
of  menace.  'Why  speak  of  him  now?  Is  not 
the  present  enough?' 

"Lai  Lu  gazed  upon  the  speaker  with  aston- 
ishment. How  could  he  so  easily  forget  what 
he  had  said  the  day  before?  And  with  a  scarce- 
ly perceptible  tightening  of  her  beautiful  lips, 
she  said: 

"  'Dost  remember  thy  promise  to  give  me 
news  of  him  to-day?' 

"  'I  do,'  replied  the  prince.  'I  received  word 
that  he  will  not  be  here  to-day.' 

"  'Who  told  thee  so?'  demanded  Lai  Lu. 

"  'A  writing  so  informed  me.' 

]. 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

"'Isitwiththee?' 

'  'No,'  replied  the  prince.  'It  is  in  my  cabi- 
net. Is  not  my  word  sufficient?' 

"To  this  Lai  Lu  did  not  reply,  but  searched 
his  countenance  with  a  scrutiny  which  he  found 
it  difficult  to  endure,  as  he  cried  with  renewed 
animation : 

'  'Oh,  Lai  Lu,  be  not  so  cold!  Hearken! 
The  native  regiments  of  Meerut  are  in  revolt 
and  on  their  way  to  Delhi. 

'  'It  is  their  purpose  to  re-establish  Dahbur 
Dhu,  my  grandfather,  upon  the  throne  of  the 
moghuls. 

'  'As  thou  knowest,  I  am  next  in  succession, 
and  Dahbur  Dhu  is  feeble  and  decrepit. 

'The  British  are  not  in  sufficient  force  to 
withstand  a  combined  attack. 

'  'See,  then,  Lai  Lu,  what  this  means  for 
me ;  what  it  means  for  thee.' 

'  'Oh!'  repeated  the  girl  with  curious  em- 
phasis, 'what  it  means  for  thee,  I  know;  but 
what  it  means  for  me' — and  she  paused  with 
disconcerting  deliberation  as  she  added — 'thou 
hast  not  said.' 

"Everything,    my    own!'    exclaimed    the 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

prince  with  generous  ardor — 'everything! 
Thou  hast  but  to  command  and  thy  will  is 
done.' 

'  'Everything?'  re-echoed  Lai  Lu  with  a 
questioning  stress  which  the  prince  could  not 
ignore — 'everything  ?' 

'  'I  have  said,'  replied  the  prince. 

'  'Am  I  then  to  be  thy  queen?' 
"For  a  moment,  a  vital  moment,  the  prince 
hesitated,  but  brief  as  the  pause,  scarcely  the 
durance  of  an  eye-flash,  Lai  Lu  saw  it,  and 
gazed  upon  the  prince  with  a  disconcerting 
directness  as  he  added,  with  the  haste  we  note 
in  the  accused  who  attempt  to  distract  suspi- 
cion by  the  utterance  of  glib  generalities : 

'  'My  queen !    Thou  art  always  that !' 

'  'Hold,  Prince  Otondo !'  exclaimed  Lai  Lu 
as  the  prince  seemed  about  to  surrender  to  an 
impulse  to  clasp  her  in  his  arms — 'hold!  Thy 
answers  suit  me  not.  Reply,  then,  to  this: 
Thy  wife — am  I  to  be  thy  wedded  wife?' 

"An  expression  like  that  of  a  peevish  child 
tantalized  by  obstacles  intruded  to  enhance  its 
appreciation  of  favor  withheld  brightened  his 

[143] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

eyes  and  sent  sullen  lines  converging  in  his 
forehead. 

"His  hands  clenched  and  opened;  a  faint 
suggestion  of  disdain  curled  his  thin  lips;  the 
amiable  inclination  of  his  figure  was  trans- 
formed to  an  erect  intolerance — and  Lai  Lu 
was  answered. 

"When  the  unfortunate  girl  could  no 
longer  doubt  the  unlovely  evidence  provided 
by  the  prince,  and  apprehended  the  humiliat- 
ing significance  of  his  hesitation,  a  majesty 
surer  than  his  own,  a  presence  superb  in  its 
elevation,  encompassed  her,  and  she  gazed  upon 
the  perturbed  man  with  an  expression  from 
which  every  trace  of  tenderness  appeared  to 
have  vanished. 

"With  an  angry  sweep  of  his  arm,  as  if  to 
banish  with  a  peremptory  gesture  the  kneeling 
envoys  of  compunction,  manliness  and  nobility, 
the  prince  stepped  forward. 

'What  is  that?'  At  this  moment  the  gong 
in  the  passageway  responded  to  three  measured 
strokes. 

'  'Confusion!'  muttered  the  prince.  'What 
does  this  mean?'  and  turning  abruptly,  he  has- 

[144] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

tened  to  the  doorway,  swept  aside  the  curtains, 
and  revealed  the  trembling  figure  of  the  wrin- 
kled crone  who  had  quitted  the  apartment  at 
his  entrance. 

'What  now?'  cried  the  exasperated  prince 
as  he  fixed  his  eyes,  vivid  with  rage  at  the  un- 
welcome interruption,  upon  the  miserable  crea- 
ture. 

"In  reply  the  woman  raised  her  shriveled 
hand,  with  a  gesture  that  was  not  without  its 
weird  impressiveness,  and  pointed  to  his  apart- 
ments. 

'  'Speak!'  he  demanded  with  a  modification 
of  his  intensity,  which  he  perceived  deprived 
the  waiting-woman  of  the  power  of  speech. 

'  'A  messenger,'  she  croaked,  'from  the 
palace  of  the  moghul ;  he  must  speak  with  thee 
at  once.' 

"With  one  long  glance  of  such  concentrated 
determination  that  it  caused  the  beautiful  girl 
to  tremble  anew,  the  prince  vanished  through 
the  portal  and  hastened  along  the  passageway. 

"Scarcely  had  he  departed  when  the  de- 
meanor of  the  waiting-woman  underwent  a 
startling  transformation. 

[145] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

"An  incredible  degree  of  energy  quickened 
in  the  recoil  of  her  bent  form  to  a  dispropor- 
tionate erectness  of  stature. 

"Beneath  level,  unwavering  lids,  her  eyes 
emitted  gleams  which  had  pierced  the  retreat- 
ing figure  with  deadly  viciousness  had  they 
been  poniards. 

"The  servile  vanished,  the  abject;  and  she 
stood,  the  silent  embodiment  of  evil,  restrained 
purpose. 

"The  next  instant,  with  an  angry  gesture 
that  was  vaguely  significant  of  future  requital 
and  present  impotence,  the  vindictive  creature 
swept  aside  the  curtains  and  re-entered  the 
room  leading  to  the  apartment  occupied  by 
Lai  Lu. 

"As  she  approached  the  disturbed  beauty, 
the  tension  in  her  mien  relaxed,  and  she  re- 
garded the  distrait  countenance  before  her  with 
a  glance  that  was  anything  but  unfriendly,  in 
so  far  as  it  was  possible  to  determine  the  nature 
of  the  sentiment  in  hiding  behind  that  austere 
visage. 

"Directly  she  stood  by  the  table  which  Lai 
Lu  had  interposed  as  a  sort  of  barricade 

[146], 


against  advances  of  her  impetuous  lover,  and 
with  an  attempt  at  a  smile,  which  could  as 
readily  find  acceptance  as  a  repentant  scowl, 
this  singular  being  inserted  her  hand  in  the 
folds  of  the  tunic  which  defended  her  parch- 
ment bosom,  and  produced  from  that  barren 
demesne  a  folded  missive,  which  she  placed  in 
the  hands  of  the  astonished  Lai  Lu. 

"With  trembling  haste  she  exposed  the  inner 
surface  of  the  paper,  and  with  a  glad  heart  and 
filial  trust  read: 

'  'Be  not  afraid ;  relief  is  at  hand.' 

"There  was  no  signature;  none  was  needed. 

"In  a  moment  Lai  Lu  recognized  her  fa- 
ther's familiar  chirography,  and  as  she  reflected 
upon  his  well-known  sagacity  and  resourceful 
boldness,  her  hope  and  courage  renewed  their 
belated  assurances. 

"  'Who  gave  you  this?'  she  asked. 

"The  waiting-woman,  after  a  brief  hesita- 
tion, in  which  inclination  and  restraint  left  their 
disturbing  traces,  replied: 
'That  I  must  not  reveal.' 

'  'At  least/  insisted  Lai  Lu,  whose  quick 
glance  had  detected  the  irresolution  of  the  in- 

[147], 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

stant  preceding,  'at  least,  tell  me  this :    Was  it 
my  father?' 

'  'No,'  replied  the  other  promptly.  With  a 
barely  perceptible  grin  of  amusement  at  this 
ingenuous  betrayal  of  the  author  of  the  few 
words  which  had  awakened  such  animation, 
she  added: 

'  'One  sent  by  him,  it  may  be.' 
'True,'  assented  the  girl. 

'  'And  now,'  exclaimed  the  woman  with  a 
return  of  her  vindictive  aspect,  which  the 
harassed  beauty,  unaware  of  its  inspiration, 
witnessed  with  vague  misgiving  and  a  futile 
attempt  to  associate  herself  with  its  ugly  mani- 
festation; 'and  now,  I  would  ask  a  question  of 
you/ 

'Yes?'  responded  Lai  Lu,  perplexed  at  the 
baleful  emphasis  which  preceded  this  announce- 
ment. 

'Well,  then,'  continued  the  woman  with 
startling  and  uncompromising  abruptness,  'am 
I  wrong  in  thinking  that  you  would  defend 
your  honor  with  your  life?' 

"Before  the  astonished  Lai  Lu  could  reply, 
or  encouraged,  it  may  be,  by  some  subtle  con- 

[148] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

firmation  in  the  look  which  shot  from  the  dis- 
tended eyes  of  the  young  girl,  the  eccentric 
speaker,  again  inserting  her  hands  in  the  folds 
of  her  tunic,  withdrew  a  short,  slender  poniard, 
at  sight  of  which  Lai  Lu  recoiled. 

"  'Ha,  ha!'  laughed  the  withered  creature 
mirthlessly  as  she  gazed  with  unsmiling  eyes 
upon  the  shrinking  beauty.  'Be  not  afraid ;  this 
weapon  is  intended  for  you,  but  not  to  your 
hurt.' 

"  'What,  then?'  asked  Lai  Lu  breathlessly, 
unable  to  adjust  the  peaceful  assurance  of  the 
grim-visaged  woman  with  the  menace  of  the 
glittering  blade. 

"  'Listen!'  exclaimed  the  woman  impressive- 
ly: 'I  know  Prince  Otondo  of  old;  he  medi- 
tates no  good  for  you.  Were  I  in  your  place, 
I  would  receive  his  detested  advances  upon 
the  point  of  this  blade.  Your  protestations  he 
will  not  heed,  but  this' — and  the  speaker  ad- 
vanced the  dagger  with  a  savage  gesture  which 
caused  a  shudder  to  pervade  the  trembling 
frame  of  Lai  Lu — 'this  is  an  argument  he  can 
understand.' 

"  'Oh,'  cried  the  terrified  girl,  'I  could  not!* 

[  149  ] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

'You  could  not?'  repeated  the  other  with 
chilling  emphasis.  'Ha,  ha!  you  could  not! 
But  you  will  submit  to  the  advances  of  this 
monster! 

'  'Believe  me,  you  are  not  the  sole  object 
of  his  regard. 

'There  have  been  others  caged  within  these 
walls  who  have  been  less  obdurate  than  you,  or 
whose  resistance  has  availed  them  nothing.' 

'  'Alas!'  exclaimed  Lai  Lu  with  an  inex- 
pressibly melancholy  accent,  as  she  considered 
the  empty  pedestal  from  which  her  ideal  had 
fallen,  and  recalled  with  a  shudder  the  caress 
which  she  had  permitted  and  bestowed  in  that 
fervid  interview  with  the  prince.  'Can  this 
be  true?' 

'  'Aye!'  exclaimed  the  woman  with  savage 
affirmation.  'Do  not  doubt  it.  Sooner  than 
submit  to  the  embraces  of  that  wretch  I  would 
turn  that  weapon  against  myself.' 

'  'Oh !'  exclaimed  Lai  Lu  with  a  superb  ges- 
ture and  the  light  of  unmistakable  resolution 
in  her  eves,  'that  I  can  do;  but  the  other ' 

it 

And  the  poor  girl  trembled  at  the  spectacle 
pictured  in  her  mind. 

[150] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

"  'Well,'  exclaimed  the  woman,  'I  will  leave 
this  dagger  here;  do  as  you  will;  I  have  done 
for  you  what  I  could,'  and  she  turned  to  de- 
part, unmindful,  apparently,  of  Lai  Lu's 
tremulous  'And  I  am  grateful  to  you.' 

"When  the  prince  arrived  at  the  apartment 
in  which  he  accorded  his  audiences,  if  the  at- 
tention he  bestowed  upon  the  meager  assem- 
blages which  presented  themselves  occasionally 
can  be  dignified  by  that  description,  he  found 
awaiting  him  a  Hindoo,  whom  he  recognized 
at  once,  and  whose  presence  invariably  pre- 
ceded the  recital  of  important  information. 

"To  the  degree  that  Prince  Otondo  had 
reason  to  suspect  that  his  grandfather  had 
certain  of  his  servants  subsidized  at  the  Kutub, 
he  measured  secretly  by  similar  secret  embas- 
sies at  the  Delhi  palace. 

"The  egotistical  old  moghul,  with  a  vanity 
which  even  his  anomalous  situation  with  the 
British  had  not  impaired,  wished  to  assure  him- 
self that  he  would  be  worthily  succeeded,  and 
the  prince  w^as  equally  solicitous  concerning 
the  advancing  senility  of  the  moghul. 

[161] 


"In  such  bloodless  intrigues  this  picturesque 
pair  kept  their  servants  engaged,  until  this 
germ  of  mutual  distrust  infected  every  depend- 
ent in  the  two  households  with  that  singular 
propensity  to  conspire  which  the  studious  his- 
torian of  this  mysterious  country  cannot  have 
failed  to  record. 

"On  this  basis  certain  shrewd  spirits  among 
the  British  intruders  at  this  period  were  able 
to  discover  more  of  the  character  of  the  people 
under  their  unwelcome  rule,  in  a  single  estab- 
lishment of  native  servants,  than  in  the  general 
observations  of  a  hundred  English  households. 

"Awaiting,  therefore,  the  conclusion  of  the 
ceremonies  of  approach,  upon  which  he  always 
insisted  and  which  were  shortly  to  be  rendered 
so  absurd,  the  prince  at  last,  calling  the  Hindoo 
by  name,  demanded  the  occasion  of  his 
presence. 

'  'It  is  an  ill  service,  O  prince/  replied  the 
Hindoo,  'which  I  am  about  to  render  you.' 

'What,  then?'  exclaimed  the  prince.     'To 
the  point,  to  the  point !' 

'Your  grandfather ' 

[152] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

'  'Is  dead?'  inquired  the  prince  with  badly 
disguised  eagerness. 

'  'Nay;  worse.' 

!  'Proceed !'  demanded  the  prince.  'What 
can  be  worse?' 

'Your  grandfather/  replied  the  messen- 
ger, in  evident  haste  to  conclude  a  disagree- 
able task,  'has  taken  to  himself  a  young  wife.' 

'  'Ah !'  cried  the  prince,  startled  into  a  de- 
grading abandonment  of  his  customary  eleva- 
tion of  demeanor.  'The  dotard,  the  imbecile! 
Married?  To  whom?' 

'  'A  daughter  of  the  house  of  Nadis  Shah, 
Rani  Rue.' 

'  'I  know  her !'  cried  the  prince  savagely. 
'Implacable,  ambitious,  unscrupulous.  What 
will  she  not  attempt  with  that  old  driveller?' 
Then,  evidently  impressed  by  something  shad- 
owed in  the  expression  of  his  ill-omened  Mer- 
cury, he  exclaimed:  'You  have  more  to  tell 
me?' 

"The  Hindoo  bowed  his  head  in  perturbed 
affirmation. 

"  'Quickly,  then!'  demanded  his  august  lis- 
tener. 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

'The  British  forces  have  concentrated  at 
the  cantonment  without  the  walls  of  Delhi;  a 
detachment  is  even  now  on  the  way  to  your 
palace,  which  they  propose  to  seize  and  gar- 
rison.' 

'  'Ah!'  murmured  the  prince,  'the  freshet  is 
turning  to  a  deluge.  Is  there  more?' 

"Yes,  O  prince,'  returned  the  Hindoo;  'the 
British  intend  to  hold  you  as  a  hostage  for  the 
safety  of  the  English  resident,  who  is  a  prisoner 
at  the  palace  in  Delhi.' 

'  'So!'  exclaimed  this  royal  reprobate  as  he 
reflected  upon  the  picturesque  possibilities  to 
himself,  in  view  of  the  sanguinary  temptation 
which  the  helpless  resident  would  present  to  the 
ambitious  Queen  Rani  Rue.  'How  far  in  ad- 
vance of  the  detachment  are  you?' 

"  'About  one  hour's  march.' 

"  'This  is  short  reckoning.  You  have  has- 
tened with  leaden  feet.' 

"  'Nay,  your  highness,'  cried  the  Hindoo,  'I 
came  the  instant  I  heard.  There  is  still  time 
to  escape,  and  the  way  is  known  to  you  alone.' 

"  'So  be  it,'  returned  the  prince  as  an  ex- 
pression of  savage  determination  compressed 

]. 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

his  thin  lips  and  ignited  baleful  fires  in  his 
restless  eyes.  *  A  wait  me  without;  I  will  join 
you  presently/ 

"As  the  Hindoo  turned  to  obey,  the  prince 
darted,  with  lithe  haste,  into  the  inner  room  and 
pressed  the  spring  in  the  wall. 

"Slowly  the*  panel  rolled  aside  and  revealed 
the  glittering  pyramid  of  gems  within. 

"From  the  depths,  just  in  the  rear  of  the 
priceless  heap,  he  withdrew  a  sort  of  jacket, 
separated  upon  its  upper  edge  into  a  series 
of  openings  similar  to  the  partitions  of  a 
cartridge-belt. 

"Into  these,  with  a  sort  of  clumsy  trepida- 
tion, he  began  to  pack  the  almost  elusive  por- 
tions of  the  gleaming  mass  of  brilliants  from 
the  recess. 

"At  the  conclusion  of  fifteen  vital  minutes 
the  prince  had  deposited  the  last  of  the  gems 
in  the  receptacles  of  this  curious  jacket,  and, 
if  the  reports  of  the  Hindoo  were  to  be 
credited.,  the  advancing  British  were  that  much 
nearer  the  Kutub. 

"With  desperate  rapidity  he  disengaged  the 
folds  of  the  delicate  cambric  which  covered  the 

[155J 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

upper  portion  of  his  body,  inserting  the 
precious  jacket  beneath,  and  after  adjusting  it 
to  his  figure,  strapped  it  securely  in  place  and 
rearranged  his  attire  into  non-committal  con- 
tours. 

'  'And  now,'  he  cried  with  an  expression  of 
savage  determination,  'and  now  for  the  rarest 
gem  of  all!'  and  darting  through  the  silken 
hangings  which  concealed  his  extreme  of  the 
passageway  leading  to  the  apartments  of  Lai 
Lu,  he  hastened  along  that  dingy  bypath  and 
presently  reached  the  threshold  from  which 
he  had  issued  but  a  short  time  before  with 
such  little  credit  to  himself. 

"Without  pausing  to  announce  himself  or 
consider  the  impropriety  of  his  abrupt  intru- 
sion and  its  possible  influence  upon  Lai  Lu, 
the  impetuous  heir-apparent  swept  aside  the 
curtains  and  rushed  into  the  room. 

"Startled  at  the  rattling  rings  which  held  the 
hangings  in  place,  and  the  impetuous  swish  of 
its  folds,  Lai  Lu  sprang  to  her  feet  and  gazed 
with  indignant  rebuke  upon  the  inconsiderate 
prince. 

"Heedless  of  the  unconcealed  disdain  of  her 

[156] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

glance  and  ignoring  the  presence  of  the  fur- 
tive-eyed waiting- woman,  he  cried: 

'  'Lai  Lu,  the  time  for  further  parley  is 
past.  The  Kutub  is  shortly  to  be  attacked  by 
the  British.  We  must  fly — come!'  and  the 
speaker  advanced  with  unreflective  haste  to  the 
side  of  the  palpitating  girl. 

"In  an  instant,  however,  his  headlong  prog- 
ress was  checked  as  Lai  Lu,  with  a  superb 
gesture,  raised  the  gleaming  dagger  above  her 
head  and  cried,  encouraged  by  the  lowering 
eyes  of  the  evilly-expectant  waiting-woman: 
'With  thee — never !  I  will  die  first !' 

"As  the  prince  recoiled  a  step  at  sight  of 
the  flashing  blade,  Lai  Lu,  with  contemptu- 
ous emphasis,  exclaimed:  'Be  not  afraid, 
Prince  Otondo,  this  is  not  for  thee.  Advance 
but  a  step  and  it  will  be  but  an  empty  casket 
that  awaits  thee!' 

"Never  had  Lai  Lu  appeared  so  desirable 
in  the  eyes  of  this  royal  rogue,  and  never  had 
he  been  more  resolute  to  possess  her. 

"With  misleading  quiet,  therefore,  he  gazed 
upon  the  upraised  hand  which  menaced  the  one 
unattained  object  of  his  desire.  Quickly  he 

[157] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

measured  the  distance  between  them.  Slowly 
he  removed  one  foot  behind  the  other.  Lightly 
he  pressed  the  slipper's  point  upon  the  tessel- 
lated floor,  and  then  with  a  leap  of  incredible 
quickness,  he  darted  forward,  caught  the  de- 
scending arm  of  Lai  Lu  in  his  grasp,  and,  with 
his  disengaged  hand,  wrenched  the  dagger 
from  her  and  threw  it  away  from  him  into  the 
center  of  the  apartment. 

"But  as  rapidly  as  he  had  moved,  the  prince 
had  not  been  able  to  prevent  the  incision  which 
the  dagger's  point  made  in  his  wrist  and  from 
which  a  thin  stream  of  blood  issued. 

'  'Ah,  ha,  my  beauty !'  he  cried  as  he  released 
the  struggling  girl  and  retreated  a  step,  the 
better  to  enjoy  her  discomfiture;  'ah,  ha!  I 
like  thy  spirit.  I  would  not  have  thee  mar  the 
lovely  casket  which  contains  it.  Here!'  he 
called  to  the  waiting-woman,  who  had  wit- 
nessed the  episode  and  into  whose  quick  eyes, 
which  had  detected  the  slight  wound  upon  the 
wrist  of  the  prince,  there  crept  a  strange,  in- 
explicable expression  of  leering  triumph,  'here, 
guard  this  maiden  for  a  space.  Your  life  shall 

[158] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

pay  the  penalty  if  aught  befalls  her  in  my 
absence. 

'  'I  shall  return  presently  with  the  help  I 
need  to  overcome  such  elevated  objection';  and 
turning  abruptly,  the  prince  hastened  toward 
the  doorway,  pausing  a  second  to  regain  pos- 
session of  the  dagger  which  he  had  cast  from 
him  during  the  brief  struggle. 

'  'Alas !'  cried  the  unhappy  girl,  'what  shall 
I  do  ?  He  has  gone  to  get  some  of  his  creatures 
to  help  him  in  his  evil  purposes.' 

"For  a  moment  a  tense  silence  prevailed. 

"The  next  instant,  with  eerie,  jubilant  in- 
terruption, the  waiting-woman  made  the  very 
air  shudder  with  a  laugh  of  such  shrill  exulta- 
tion and  riotous  abandon  that  Lai  Lu,  for  a 
moment  forgetful  of  her  own  extremity,  gazed 
with  unconcealed  amazement  and  alarm  upon 
the  almost  hysterical  creature. 

"  'Ha,  ha!'  she  raved;  'be  not  afraid,  Lai 
Lu.  This  royal  pest,  this  insolent  prince,  will 
trouble  you  no  more;  you  will  never  see  him 
again.' 

"'Ha!'  exclaimed  Lai  Lu.  'You  seem 
strangely  positive.  What  do  you  mean?' 

[159] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

'  'Did  you  see  that  scratch  which  the  point 
of  your  dagger  made  upon  the  wrist  of  the 
prince?' 

"  'No,'  replied  Lai  Lu,  shrinking  from  the 
picture  presented  to  her  mind. 

'Well,'  returned  the  grim-visaged  woman 
with  a  return  to  her  customary  austerity,  'I 
did.  The  wound  was  slight;  only  a  few  easily 
subdued  drops  of  blood  followed;  but,  believe 
me,  maiden,  it  will  be  sufficient.' 

"  'What  do  you  mean?'  demanded  Lai  Lu. 

'This,'  returned  the  weird  creature  with  re- 
pulsive, evil  joy,  which  she  made  no  attempt 
to  disguise:  'The  point  of  that  dagger  was 
steeped  in  the  most  deadly  poison  known  in 
India.  In  twenty  minutes,  ha,  ha!  it  is  the 
prince  who  will  be  the  empty  casket.' ' 

As  the  Sepoy  reached  this  point  in  his  nar- 
rative he  paused  with  startling  abruptness. 

Raikes,  no  longer  under  the  influence  of  the 
seductive  cadences,  looked  up  sharply. 

"Well?"  inquired  the  Sepoy  as  he  met  the 
inquiring  glance  of  his  furtive  auditor,  "what 

[160], 


of  the  flaw  in  the  sapphire?  Can  you  trace  the 
blemish?" 

"Devil  seize  me!"  exclaimed  Raikes,  as  he 
offered,  by  this  apostrophe,  an  invitation  which 
was  certain,  at  no  distant  date,  to  be  accepted. 
"Devil  seize  me  if  I  have  thought  of  the  sap- 
phire!" and  he  began  at  once  an  apologetic  in- 
spection of  the  brilliant  with  the  magnifying 
glass. 

"Ha,  ha!"  laughed  the  Sepoy.  "I  must  con- 
gratulate myself  upon  my  powers  of  narra- 
tion." 

"Aye!"  replied  Raikes,  as  he  continued  his 
examination  of  the  flaming  bauble,  "and  also 
upon  your  irritating  habit  of  concluding  at 
the  anxious  moment.  But  see  here,"  and  he 
held  the  sapphire  up  to  view;  "I  can  see  noth- 
ing wrong;  possibly  the  light  is  bad.  The 
searching  glare  of  day  is  required  to  discover 
a  blemish  such  as  you  speak  of." 

"Suppose  you  return  to-morrow,  then,  di- 
rectly after  breakfast?"  suggested  the  Sepoy. 
"I  want  your  judgment.  I  dare  not  trust  my 
own ;  my  blindness  may  be  voluntary." 

"Very  well,  then,"  assented  Raikes,  who, 

,[161] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

now  that  he  had  nothing  upon  which  to  fasten 
his  eyes,  felt  an  easily  comprehended  uneasiness 
to  leave  the  Sepoy.  "I  will  be  here  at  that 
time";  and  with  his  customary  emotionless 
adieux  the  guilty  creature  slipped  through 
the  doorway  and  speeded  like  a  shriveled 
shadow  along  the  various  passages. 

As  he  was  about  to  enter  his  room  he  was 
hailed  by  his  nephew. 

"Uncle,  you  wanted  to  see  me." 

"True,"  replied  Raikes,  with  a  start  of  recol- 
lection, "I  do;  but  suppose  we  postpone  the 
interview  until  to-morrow." 

"Very  well,"  replied  the  young  man  easily, 
and  Raikes,  entering  his  room,  fastened  the 
door  with  his  usual  elaborate  precaution. 

His  first  movement  was  to  disclose  the  in- 
terior of  the  recess  containing  his  coin  and  his 
conscience. 

A  rapid  examination  convinced  him  that  no 
further  depredations  had  been  committed  upon 
the  former,  and  the  latter  he  secreted  in  the 
pocket  of  his  waistcoat  along  with  the  diamond, 
which  flashed  its  unregarded  rebuke  into  his 
eager  eyes. 

[162] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

At  this  juncture  the  singular  drowsiness 
which  had  overtaken  him  so  persistently  in  the 
past  few  days  began  to  steep  his  dulling  senses. 

Warned  by  its  approach,  Raikes  began  to 
put  into  execution  a  newly  conceived  plan  of 
retiring  for  the  night  and  effective  vigil  over 
his  treasure-trove. 

Hastily  drawing  a  chair  before  the  radiator, 
and  placing  directly  in  front  of  that  the  table, 
from  which  with  a  savage  sweep  of  the  arm  he 
swept  the  dull  heap  of  coals  rattling  to  the 
floor,  Raikes  established  himself  in  the  seat 
so  provided  and,  leaning  forward,  awaited  the 
final  blandishments  of  the  drowsiness  which 
was  not  long  in  lulling  him  into  that  profound 
degree  of  slumber  which  is  commonly  supposed 
to  be  the  reward  of  sound  morals  and  Chris- 
tian resignation. 

(To  be  continued  on  Dickey  No.  3,  Series  B.) 

During  the  reading  of  this  impossible  helter- 
skelter  of  unrestrained  imagination  and  com- 
posite style,  the  expression  in  the  countenance 
of  the  listening  woman  had  developed  from 

[163] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

its  original  sadness  to  an  unmistakable 
geniality. 

The  pensive  droop  of  her  lips,  little  by  little, 
nestled  away  into  a  smiling  seriousness,  and 
when  Dennis,  confronted  with  the  habitual  con- 
clusion in  italics,  looked  up  with  a  grimace  of 
recognition,  his  glance  was  met  by  a  pair  of 
kindly  blue  eyes,  in  which  he  believed  he  traced 
a  charming  suggestion  of  unaffected  good  fel- 
lowship. 

Altogether  unsuspected  by  himself,  Dennis, 
with  his  intent,  intelligent  countenance,  and  the 
contrasting  vivacity  of  his  rich,  Irish  accent, 
had  awakened  an  interest  in  the  mind  of  his 
companion  which  months  of  adroit  approach 
could  not  have  achieved. 

His  genuineness  was  unquestionable. 

His  entire  absorption  in  the  story,  his  de- 
lightful and  unconscious  elimination  of  self, 
supplied  this  tired  woman  with  elements  of 
mental  refreshment  and  genuine  enjoyment 
which  circumstances  had  compelled  her  to  de- 
cide no  longer  existed. 

Encouraged,  therefore,  by  this  unmistakable 
interest  and  the  amiable  attitude  of  attention 

[164] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

which  Dennis,  with  characteristic  ingenuous- 
ness, accepted  as  a  tribute  to  the  narrative,  he 
exclaimed : 

"An*  isn't  it  great,  now?  Did  you  ever 
hear  such  a  tale  as  that?" 

"I  never  did,"  was  the  smiling  reply. 

"An'  wasn't  that  Raikes  a  div — a  tight  one, 
I  mean?" 

"He  was,  indeed,"  assented  the  lady,  as  she 
reviewed  this  sordid  character  and  the  inci- 
dents surrounding  him,  and  contrasted  the 
tumult  of  phrase  and  situation  with  her  genial 
Addison  and  her  placid  Irving. 

"An'  would  you  like  to  hear  the  rest?"  asked 
Dennis,  as  he  produced  the  remaining  bosom 
of  Series  B. 

"Yes,"  replied  the  lady,  "I  believe  I  would. 
But  just  a  moment  before  you  begin,"  and  re- 
garding this  oblivious  young  man  with  an  ex- 
pression in  which  a  degree  of  speculation  still 
lingered  to  tantalize  its  suggestion  of  frank 
indorsement,  she  hazarded : 

"You  have  not  lived  in  New  York  long?" 

Wondering  at  the  acuteness  of  this  observa- 

[165] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

tion,  Dennis  responded  by  according  to  her  the 
exact  time  of  his  brief  residence. 

"Ah!"  exclaimed  the  lady,  "I  thought  so." 

"May  I  ask,"  inquired  Dennis,  wondering 
if,  like  the  visitor  from  the  bucolic  district,  he 
supplied  unconscious  data  in  his  appearance 
for  classification,  "may  I  ask  how  you  are  able 
to  tell  that  I'm  here  for  a  short  time  only?" 

"Well,"  returned  his  companion  with  a  de- 
gree of  hesitation  exquisitely  refined  as  it  shad- 
owed through  her  fine  countenance,  and  which 
she  presently  conquered  as  she  replied  to  his 
question  with  that  shade  of  frankness  which,  in 
the  well-bred,  can  never  be  mistaken  for  any- 
thing else:  "It  requires  about  a  year's  resi- 
dence in  this  bedlam  to  replace  the  genuine 
with  the  artificial;  I  see  no  evidence  of  such 
an  unhappy  transformation  in  you." 

"Oh,  I  see,"  responded  Dennis.  "An*  you 
never  will,  either." 

"I  am  almost  prepared  to  believe  that,"  an- 
swered the  lady  with  a  reassuring  cordiality 
which  somehow  indicated  to  this  young  man 
that  she  had  already  become  convinced  of  more 
than  she  was  willing  to  acknowledge. 

[166] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

"You  may  do  so  entirely,"  said  Dennis 
simply. 

"Now,  one  question  more,"  continued  his 
companion,  "and  do  not  consider  me  inquisi- 
tive, since  I  may  have  something  to  suggest 
to  your  advantage  if  your  reply  is  satisfactory. 
What  is  your  business?" 

Dennis  blushed. 

"My  business?"  he  repeated  with  a  droll  ac- 
cent and  an  amusing  grimace;  and  then,  en- 
couraged by  the  friendly  invitation  and  subtle 
encouragement  in  the  manner  of  his  sweet- 
faced  listener,  with  a  straightforward  recital 
which  the  lady  had  expected  from  him,  and 
which  advanced  him  several  leagues  in  her  esti- 
mation, Dennis  recounted  his  experiences  from 
the  time  of  his  arrival  up  to  the  present 
moment. 

"It  isn't  much,"  he  concluded  apologetical- 
ly, "not  anywrhere  as  interesting  as  the  dickey 
back;  but  it's  all  there  is,  an'  it's  true,  every 
word." 

"It  is  more  than  you  suspect,"  dissented  his 
hearer.  "You  have  enabled  me  to  come  to  a 
decision,  at  least,  and  may  help  me  to  solve 

[  167  ] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

a  vexed  problem.  In  the  meantime,  let  us 
finish  the  story.  While  you  are  reading  my 
mind  will  clear;  I  will  make  my  suggestion 
when  you  conclude." 

Wondering,  and  yet  with  a  prompt  confi- 
dence which  conveyed  an  agreeable  flattery 
which  the  cleverest  diplomacy  could  not  have 
achieved,  Dennis,  holding  his  absurd  medium 
at  a  level  which  permitted  him  to  receive  the 
stimulation  of  a  sympathetic  glance  now  and 
then,  began. 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 


CHAPTER  VII 

CONSIDERING  the  unaccustomed  position  in 
which  Raikes  had  placed  himself  in  arranging 
to  retire  the  night  before,  he  awoke  with  con- 
siderable astonishment  to  the  realization  that 
he  had  passed  a  night  of  undisturbed  slumber. 

Aside  from  a  slight  disposition  to  stretch  his 
lean  limbs  unduly,  and  a  feeling  of  insecurity 
attending  his  first  efforts  to  stand,  he  was  not 
aware  of  any  inconvenience  from  his  singular 
siesta. 

At  last,  after  having  re-established  his  creak- 
ing equilibrium  and  resumed  his  accustomed 
furtive  regard  of  things,  he  was  suddenly  re- 
minded by  the  shifted  position  of  the  furni- 
ture of  the  purpose  of  this  makeshift  barricade. 

At  once  the  shuddering  dread  which  had 
attended  his  recent  visits  to  the  secret  recess 
returned  with  numbing  chills  and  sinking 
spirit. 

[169] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

He  advanced  his  bony  hand,  gnarled  and 
mean  with  useless  abstemiousness  and  miser- 
able abnegations,  and  revolved  the  button  in 
the  concave.  In  response,  the  false  register 
swung  back;  in  another  tense  moment  the  inner 
space  was  revealed,  and  his  treasury  laid  bare. 

For  an  instant,  in  the  manner  of  an  appre- 
hensive child  who  postpones  as  long  as  possible 
some  unwelcome  confirmation,  Raikes  closed 
his  eyes,  and  when  he  opened  them  again  they 
rested,  with  unerring  precision,  upon  a  bag 
somewhat  detached  from  the  others,  which  pro- 
truded at  its  sides  with  those  frightful  points 
and  angles  with  which  he  had  become  so  un- 
happily familiar  of  late. 

With  a  smothered  cry  he  sprang  forward, 
gripped  the  bag  in  a  trembling,  faltering 
clutch,  and  dropped  it  with  a  groan  to  the  floor, 
where  it  fell  with  a  heartbreaking,  distracting 
lightness,  which,  nevertheless,  smote  like  a 
mighty  weight  upon  his  bursting  heart. 

"My  God!"  he  cried,  "this  is  incredible!" 
and  the  miserable  creature  stood  for  a  moment 
with  an  appalling  vacancy  shadowing  in  his 
countenance,  which  was  illumed  for  one  fitful 

[170] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

moment  with  a  ray  of  hope  as  he  inserted  his 
hand  in  his  waistcoat  pocket  to  assure  himself 
that  the  diamond  which  he  had  placed  in  that 
receptacle  the  night  before  at  least  was  safe. 

The  diamond — ah,  yes ! 

There  was  still  some  consolation  in  that. 

Its  value  still  maintained  a  close  proportion 
to  his  loss.  If  there  was  no  gain  there  was,  at 
least,  a  sort  of  evil  restitution. 

But  his  exploring  fingers  found  only  an 
empty  pocket. 

In  a  palsy  of  fear,  and  with  the  demeanor  of 
one  who  feels  the  first  twinge  of  a  mortal  af- 
fliction and  awaits  in  fearful  silence  the  grew- 
some  confirmation  of  another,  he  stood  without 
sound  or  motion,  his  set,  staring  eyes  directed 
with  unseeing  intensity  upon  the  vacant  air. 

The  next  instant,  with  feverish  animation 
and  impotent  apprehension,  five  writhing  fin- 
gers leaped  from  their  futile  search,  like 
scotched  reptiles,  into  the  opposite  pocket  and 
withdrew  the  two  useless  keys  with  which  he 
fastened  his  abortive  latch  on  the  door. 

And  then,  with  a  frightful  glitter  in  his  eyes, 
an  ugly  ooze  about  his  bloodless  lips,  a  flicker- 

[171] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

ing  effort  of  his  shriveled  fingers  to  adjust 
themselves  to  some  ribald  rhythm,  Raikes  be- 
gan to  sing,  with  the  dry  rasp  and  ancient  husk 
of  a  galvanized  sphinx: 

"And  her  name  it  was  Dinah, 

Scarce  sixteen  years  old; 
She'd  a  very  large  fortune 

In  greenbacks  and  gold. 
Sing  turi-li-luri 

Ha,  ha!  ha,  ha!"  and  supporting  himself  along 
the  wall  he  made  his  way  slowly  to  the  thresh- 
old, unfastened  the  locks,  removed  the  heavy 
bar,  opened  the  door,  and  cried  out  in  a  voice 
that  was  not  human,  that  shuddered  its  way 
along  the  chill  passage  through  the  shrinking 
air: 

"Robert — Robert!"  and  then,  reeling,  stum- 
bling toward  a  near-by  chair,  he  fell  ere  he 
could  reach  it,  in  utter  collapse  to  the  floor, 
and  lay  there — shriveled,  grotesque,  in  no  way 
pathetic,  in  all  points  contemptible,  as  his 
nephew,  in  response  to  his  uncle's  unearthly 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

summons,  rushed  into  the  room,  followed  by; 
the  wide-eyed  spinster. 

For  three  days  during  the  week  that  fol- 
lowed Raikes  lay  oblivious  to  the  considerations 
of  loss  or  gain. 

The  utmost  of  the  young  medical  attendant, 
who  had  been  selected  on  the  basis  of  the  small 
charges  incident  to  a  beginning  practice,  had 
failed  to  restore  the  emaciated  man  to  his  sus- 
pended consciousness,  until,  toward  the  morn- 
ing of  the  fourth  day,  the  spinster,  who  sat 
near-by  in  weary  vigil,  was  startled  to  behold 
the  dull  eyes  of  her  brother  fastened  upon  her 
with  the  faraway,  questioning  look  of  one  re- 
turning from  the  confines  of  the  nether  to  the 
sharp  realities  of  existence. 

"Rodman?"  she  inquired  with  anxious  in- 
terrogation. 

In  response  the  thin  lips  of  the  sufferer 
moved  slowly. 

Approaching  the  bed,  his  sister,  leaning  over 
the  unfortunate  Raikes,  heard  him  articulate 
with  difficulty  "Water!" 

Supporting  his  head  with  one  hand,  the  spin- 
ster supplied  his  feebly-sighed  request,  and 

[173] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

when  the  last  difficult  swallow  conveyed  the  re- 
freshing draught  along  his  fevered  throat,  she 
restored  his  head  to  the  pillow  and  awaited  de- 
velopments. 

As  she  sat  at  the  hedside  in  an  attitude  of 
fearful  expectation,  it  was  evident  that  some 
transformation,  more  wholesome  than  subtle, 
had  manifested  itself  in  the  mien  and  physique 
of  his  nurse. 

A  large  degree  of  her  pitiful  attenuity  had 
vanished;  a  legible  vestige  of  placid  well- 
being  seemed  to  have  replaced  the  hunger  of 
her  eyes;  there  was  a  vague,  unsubstantial 
promise  of  possible  comeliness  in  the  restora- 
tion of  her  cheeks. 

Aware  of  these  changes  herself,  and  fear- 
ful lest  her  brother's  sharp  eyes  would  discover 
them,  the  spinster  recalled,  with  a  sort  of 
troubled  gratification,  the  occasion  of  the  im- 
provement. 

Undisturbed  by  the  rebuking  glances  of  the 
abstemious  Raikes,  and  secretly  abetted  by  the 
amused  Sepoy,  the  poor  woman  had  enjoyed 
the  privileges  of  the  table  with  a  relish  and 

[174] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

surrender  which  had  begun  to  result  in  the 
manner  indicated. 

For  several  days  previous  to  the  catastrophe 
which  had  concluded  in  the  prostration  of  her 
brother,  the  spinster  had  supplied  the  cravings 
of  her  appetite  with  a  gusto  that  was  a  revela- 
tion to  her,  and  which  would  have  evoked  a 
profound  rebuke  from  the  wretched  creature 
on  the  bed. 

It  was  therefore  with  secret  misgiving  and  a 
qualified  delight  she  heard  her  brother  at  last 
call  feebly:  "Sarah!" 

In  answer  to  the  exhausted  interrogation  in 
his  utterance  of  the  name,  his  sister  hastened 
to  recount  to  him  the  incident  of  his  collapse 
and  his  subsequent  unconsciousness. 

Little  by  little  his  intelligence  began  to  re- 
sume its  abandoned  functions,  and  at  last  he 
recalled  the  wrhole  evil  situation. 

"Where's  Robert?"  he  said.    "I  want  him." 

"I  will  send  him  to  you,"  exclaimed  his  sis- 
ter, and  she  hastened  from  the  room. 

"Well,  uncle!"  exclaimed  Robert  as  he  en- 
tered with  a  cheerfulness  he  was  far  from  feel- 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

ing  as  he  witnessed  that  emaciated  counte- 
nance; "better,  I  see." 

"I  congratulate  you  upon  your  imagina- 
tion," replied  Raikes,  with  a  feeble  attempt  at 
his  customary  incivility;  "but  lock  the  door  and 
listen  to  me  carefully." 

These  instructions  complied  with,  Robert 
seated  himself  in  the  chair  just  vacated  by  the 
spinster,  which  provided  his  uncle  an  unob- 
structed view  of  the  embonpoint  and  general 
aspect  of  well-being  which  were  so  obnoxious 
to  the  singular  man  on  the  bed. 

"In  the  first  place,"  resumed  Raikes  weakly, 
"move  the  bed  around  so  that  I  can  see  the 
register  in  the  wall." 

The  wondering  Robert  did  as  he  was 
ordered. 

"Take  hold  of  the  button  that  moves  the 
valves  and  pull  it  toward  you." 

Robert  followed  these  instructions  minutely, 
and  to  his  astonishment  and  the  miser's  con- 
sternation the  radiator  itself  swung  away  from 
the  wall. 

"What!"  cried  the  startled  invalid  as  he  be- 
held this  confirmation  of  his  fear  that  he  had 

[176] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

neglected  to  spring  the  catch  that  held  the 
radiator  on  the  occasion  of  the  mishap  which 
resulted  in  his  confinement  to  the  bed.  "Look 
within.  Is  the  inner  compartment  closed?" 

"No!"  replied  Robert. 

"My  God!"  groaned  Raikes  as  he  realized 
that  his  treasury  had  been  thus  unguarded  dur- 
ing his  illness.  "Tell  me  how  many  bags  there 
are." 

Robert  removed  them  one  by  one,  and  de- 
posited them  on  the  table. 

As  the  miser  followed  the  movements  of  his 
nephew  with  anxious  notation,  a  sigh  of  un- 
utterable relief  welled  from  the  innermost 
depths  of  his  bosom. 

The  bags  had  been  untouched ! 

There  was  no  further  loss,  and  the  clinking 
weight  assured  him  that  his  nocturnal  visitor 
had  made  no  more  of  his  gross  substitutions. 

"Listen,  Robert,"  said  Raikes  with  laborious 
amiability,  as  his  astonished  nephew  seated 
himself  near  the  bedside,  "it  has  been  my  pur- 
pose to  conceal  this  hiding  place  from  any 
living  soul,  but  I  find  that  I  have  not  suc- 
ceeded. 

1177] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

"Some  one  has  made  three  visits  to  that 
recess  and  helped  himself  to  as  many  bags  of 


coin." 


Robert,  remembering  his  uncle's  well-known 
secrecy  and  the  unusual  precautions  taken  by 
him  to  secure  his  room  from  intrusion,  looked 
his  incredulity,  which  stimulated  Raikes  into 
exclaiming : 

"Ah,  but  you  do  not  know  how  incredible 
it  is.  Wait  until  you  hear  all.  You  will  won- 
der what  human  agency  could  penetrate  these 
locks,  open  the  doors  of  this  hiding  place,  ex- 
tract the  plunder,  restore  the  locks  to  their 
original  condition,  and  re-issue  into  the  pas- 
sageway without  disturbing  the  latches  or  the 
crossbar.  My  losses  are  supernatural.  Now 
follow  me  carefully  and  confess  that  you  have 
not  heard  anything  so  ghastly,  so  unreal  as 
what  I  am  about  to  relate." 

As  Raikes  proceeded  in  his  narrative,  his 
nephew  was  at  first  inclined  to  receive  these 
weird  confidences  as  features  of  the  unhappy 
man's  condition,  but  as  the  latter  progressed, 
with  a  constantly  increasing  degree  of  his  cus- 

[178] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

ternary  emotionless  lucidity,  his  sincerity  be- 
came apparent. 

"And  now,"  concluded  Raikes,  "what  have 
you  to  say  to  all  this?  Is  it  not  worthy  of  a 
Poe  or  a  Maupassant?  I  tell  you,  I  must  have 
some  explanation  of  this  mystery  or  I  shall  go 
mad." 

During  this  singular  recital  the  young  man's 
mind,  stimulated  by  the  eerie  perplexities  and 
the  unhappy  denouement,  had  been  busy. 

It  was  not  difficult  to  convince  himself  of 
the  futility  of  any  of  his  own  speculations ;  the 
nearness  of  the  calamity  affected  him,  in  a 
degree,  as  it  did  the  withered  invalid. 

He  had  a  sound  brain,  nourished  by  a  well 
sustained  body;  his  intelligence  was  apt  and 
rapid,  but  these  unheard  of  complications  de- 
manded a  morbid  analysis  of  which  he  was  in- 
capable. 

On  this  basis,  however,  as  his  uncle  had  pro- 
ceeded, Robert  had  been  able  to  develop  a  sug- 
gestion; he  could  offer  that,  at  least. 

In  reply,  therefore,  to  the  feverish  ques- 
tions of  his  uncle,  the  young  man  said: 

"In  so  far  as  I  am  able  to  see,  your  disasters 

[179] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

have  narrowed  your  range  of  discernment. 
They  are  too  recent ;  they  affect  you  too  near- 
ly. Under  such  conditions  we  take  counsel 
of  our  prejudices  instead  of  our  judgment. 
Your  thoughts  are  apt  to  return  to  the  cen- 
tral feature  of  your  loss.  It  is  not  natural  to 
expect  one  to  dismiss  such  a  consideration  in 
order  to  make  way  for  others  which  might  help 
you  in  your  search. 

"On  my  part,  the  incident  is  new  and  stimu- 
lating, but  the  ideas  it  awakens  lead  to  noth- 
ing. However,  I  should  not  regard  the  case 
as  impossible  until  I  had  tried  at  least  one 
means  of  solution." 

"What  is  that?"  demanded  Raikes,  diverted, 
if  not  convinced,  by  the  sensible  observations 
of  his  nephew. 

"You  have  heard  of  Gratz?"  inquired 
Robert. 

"Of  the  secret  service?" 

"Yes." 

"Ah!"  cried  the  old  man;  "to  submit  the  case 
to  him  means  another  in  the  secret,  with  little 
prospect  of  advantage." 

[180] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

"I  am  not  so  sure  about  that,"  returned 
Robert.  "Do  you  recall  the  Dupont  mystery?" 

Raikes  nodded. 

"Well,"  continued  Robert,  "you  must  also 
remember  the  Belmont  scandal.  Gratz  cer- 
tainty let  daylight  into  that." 

"Ah,"  cried  Raikes,  "I  do  not  like  your  sug- 
gestions; they  encourage  me  and  alarm  me  at 
the  same  time.  Think  of  the  cost." 

Irritated  at  the  intrusion  of  this  frugal  pro- 
viso at  this  juncture,  Robert  exclaimed  with 
some  warmth:  "Yes,  but  think,  also,  how  in- 
significant that  would  be  if  he  discovered  the 
thief  and  recovered  the  money." 

"If — if "  repeated  Raikes  with  impa- 
tience. 

"And  I  can  say  this,"  continued  Robert: 
"It  is  the  ambition  of  Gratz  to  be  appointed 
chief  of  the  bureau  to  which  he  belongs.  What- 
ever can  be  placed  to  his  credit  in  the  mean- 
time will  serve  as  an  additional  reason  for  his 
advancement. 

"I  believe  that  he  would  be  more  persuaded 
to  undertake  the  case  with  this  prospect  in 
view  than  for  a  mercenary  reason." 

[181] 


........  - 

THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

"But,"  interrupted  Raikes,  "can  you  get 
him?" 

"I  think  I  can  answer  for  that,"  replied 
Robert.  "I  know  him  very  well.  If  you  will 
consent  to  leave  the  matter  in  my  hands,  I  will 
attend  to  Gratz." 

"Well,"  exclaimed  Raikes,  as  Robert  con- 
cluded, "have  it  your  own  way;  anything  is 
better  than  this  killing  suspense.  I  do  not  be- 
lieve that  I  could  endure  a  repetition  of  the 
incidents  of  the  last  few  nights.  But  return 
the  .bags  before  you  go,  and  shut  the  radiator; 
it  will  lock  in  closing." 

When  Robert  at  last  reached  the  dining- 
room  he  discovered  his  aunt  at  the  table,  seated 
opposite  the  Sepoy. 

Instructing  the  spinster  to  resume  her  vigil 
until  his  return,  Robert  proceeded  to  his  own 
table,  and  from  that  point  of  observation  oc- 
cupied himself,  during  the  next  twenty  min- 
utes, partly  with  his  breakfast  and  partly  in 
regarding  this  illy-assorted  duet. 

The  Sepoy  was  as  gravely  urbane  as 
ever;  his  browns  and  blacks  intermingled  har- 
moniously; his  eyes  were  bright;  his  teeth  still 

[182] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

suggestive  of  restrained  sarcasm  in  their  dull, 
red  sheaths,  as,  with  grave  courtesy,  he  made 
himself  agreeable  to  his  companion  by  abetting 
her  newly-awakened  appetite  with  recommen- 
dations of  the  steak  and  eulogies  of  the  butter. 

The  spinster  was  no  longer  ravenous;  the 
advantages  she  had  enjoyed  during  the  absence 
of  her  domestic  Argus  had  made  her  cravings 
more  equable,  and  she  accepted  the  edible  sug- 
gestions of  the  Sepoy  with  an  approach  to 
placid  satisfaction  that  hinted  at  the  imminence 
of  repletion. 

This  disposition  to  make  the  most  of  her 
privileges,  with  what  composure  she  could  as- 
sume, would  have  added  the  basis  of  a  serious 
relapse  on  the  part  of  the  invalid  could  he  have 
witnessed  the  phenomenon. 

It  was  remarkable  how  promptly  the  poor 
creature  evinced  the  effects  of  her  nourishment. 

Beginning,  as  already  indicated,  with  a 
logical  indigestion,  she  progressed  to  the  point 
of  a  possible  filling  out  of  the  crevices  of  her 
countenance,  and  her  eyes  certainly  had  lost 
the  expression  of  appeal  characteristic  of  the 
mendicant  in  the  doorway. 

[183] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

All  this,  minutely  noted  by  her  watchful 
nephew,  was  thoroughly  enjoyed  with  a  sort 
of  chuckling  collusion  and  vicarious  gratifica- 
tion. 

On  her  return  to  the  invalid  she  was  re- 
quested by  him  to  provide  whatever  nourish- 
ment was  needed,  and  then  to  leave  him  alone 
for  a  couple  of  hours. 

These  instructions  fulfilled,  the  spinster 
sought  the  retirement  of  her  room,  surrendered 
herself  to  the  enjoyment  of  reminiscent  diges- 
tion, and  Raikes  began  to  pull  himself  together. 

His  method  was  characteristic. 

On  the  basis  that  he  could  not  afford  to  en- 
joy himself  like  any  normally  constituted  be- 
ing, he  assured  his  mind  that  he  could  not  sub- 
mit to  the  expense  of  illness. 

According  to  his  rigid  logic,  sickness  was 
more  the  result  of  indulgence  than  self-denial. 

He  proposed  to  have  the  credit  of  his  abne- 
gations. 

Therefore  he  directed  his  perverse  will  to 
the  contemplation  of  the  rational  aspect  of  his 
condition,  and  presently  had  managed  to  con- 
vince himself  that  if  he  did  not  entertain  the 

[184] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

belief  of  suffering,  this  untoward  condition 
would  cease  to  exist. 

As  this  singular  being  combatted  all  that 
was  unwelcome  to  this  point  of  view,  the  grim 
lines  tightened  about  the  corners  of  his  mouth, 
the  deep  fissures  in  his  forehead  established  a 
communication  with  the  obstinate  wrinkles  at 
the  root  of  his  nose,  and  by  noon  he  was  well  on 
his  way  to  the  mastery  of  his  indisposition,  and 
by  nightfall  he  scandalized  the  young  medical 
attendant  by  standing  up  to  receive  him. 

Extending  to  himself  a  chuckling  tribute  of 
his  resolution,  he  received  the  incredulity  of 
his  nephew  as  additional  indorsement  when  the 
latter  made  his  appearance  that  evening,  ac- 
companied by  the  colorless  negation  of  a  man 
whom  he  could  scarcely  persuade  himself  to 
believe  was  the  celebrated  Gratz. 

However,  no  more  ideal  countenance  could 
have  been  created  for  the  purposes  to  which  it 
was  applied  by  its  owner. 

Pallid,  expressionless,  vacant,  it  was  as  near- 
ly a  canvas  upon  which  to  delineate  almost 
anything  in  the  range  of  emotion  as  it  was  pos- 
sible for  a  visage  of  flesh  and  blood  to  be. 

£185] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

As  to  the  details  of  features,  these  were  al- 
together subordinate,  and  as  devoid  of  physiog- 
nomical meaning  as  the  dull  integument  which 
encompassed  them. 

It  had  about  the  same  amount  of  character 
as  a  bald  baby. 

One  received  the  impression  that  a  seismic 
disturbance  might  awaken  some  show  of  emo- 
tion, but  design — never. 

And  yet,  behind  that  pale  disguise,  between 
sleepy,  level  lids,  two  points  of  concentrated 
fire  and  ceaseless  animation  gleamed  their 
startling  significance  to  any  one  able  to  com- 
prehend. 

In  stature  he  was  adjusted  to  his  visage. 

His  frame  was  lean  enough  to  repudiate  the 
incredible  agility  and  recuperative  strength  it 
housed,  and  his  carriage  was  consistently  "out 
of  plumb." 

Altogether  it  was  an  identity  that  would 
have  been  overlooked  in  any  gathering,  and 
was  almost  nondescript  enough  to  establish  an 
eligibility  to  the  most  exclusive  function. 

This  unpromising  ensemble,  however,  was 
not  misleading  to  Raikes,  who  had  looked  up 

[186] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

quickly  at  the  first  appearance  of  the  detective, 
and  had  seen  the  sharp,  penetrating  glance 
with  which  Gratz  had  for  an  instant  surveyed 
the  apartment. 

Moreover,  the  very  leanness  of  the  famous 
official  appealed  to  him. 

Here,  at  least,  were  none  of  the  obnoxious 
evidences  of  repletion  which  he  viewed  with 
such  disapprobation  in  his  sturdier  nephew. 

The  man's  attire,  too,  commended  him  to  the 
starved  graces  of  his  spare  host.  It  was  as 
characterless  as  it  was  possible  for  fabric  to 
be,  and  considered  with  his  meager  physique 
and  vacant  physiognomy,  was  a  fitting  com- 
plement to  both;  an  adjustment  of  component 
detail  too  consistent  to  have  been  the  needless 
aspect  it  was  designed  to  present. 

With  a  voice  in  which  the  character  had  been 
trained  away  as  surely  as  the  charity  from  the 
opinions  of  the  social  elite,  this  descendant 
of  Lecocq  accosted  his  patron,  and  with  busi- 
ness-like brevity  indicated  that  he  was  already 
familiar  with  the  situation  as  outlined  by 
Robert,  and  if  Mr.  Raikes  would  consent  to 

[187] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

reply  to  a  few  questions  it  would  facilitate 
matters. 

His  hearer  indicated  that  he  was  entirely  at 
the  disposal  of  the  detective. 

With  characteristic  concentration,  therefore, 
Gratz  began : 

"Do  you  suspect  anybody  in  particular?" 

"No." 

"That  is  singular,"  commented  Gratz. 
"May  I  ask  why?  Under  such  circumstances 
the  mind  generally  proceeds  in  some  unhappy 
direction." 

"Not  in  this  instance,"  returned  Raikes. 
"Before  I  suspect  any  one,  I  must  assign  to 
him  supernatural  powers,  almost.  I  will  have 
to  explain  how  it  is  possible  for  any  one  to 
enter  this  room,  penetrate  that  recess,  make  the 
substitution,  and  retire,  leaving  the  door  in  the 
same  condition,  precisely  as  left  by  me  the 
night  before." 

"That  is  the  point,"  replied  Gratz.  Then, 
after  a  moment's  reflection,  he  inquired :  "Am 
I  at  liberty  to  nose  around  this  room?" 

"Help  yourself,"  answered  Raikes. 

With  this  assent,  Gratz  hurried  to  the  win- 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

dow,  examined  the  sash,  considered  the  sheer 
depths  immediately  below,  its  lack  of  vicinity 
to  other  windows,  and  last,  the  strong  fas- 
tenings, to  disturb  which  would  involve  a 
degree  of  rasp  and  wrench  sufficient  to  disturb 
the  slumbers  of  a  Rip  Van  Winkle. 

With  a  countenance  as  impassive  as  ever, 
he  returned  to  Raikes  and  said: 

"Now  for  the  hiding  place." 

With  a  grimace  of  reluctant  acquiescence, 
Raikes,  closely  regarded  by  the  detective,  pro- 
ceeded to  the  button  in  the  concave,  which  he 
moved  with  slow  manipulation  for  the  edifica- 
tion of  the  alert  watcher,  who  witnessed,  with- 
out comment,  the  displacement  of  the  register 
and  the  subsequent  revelation  of  the  inner  com- 
partment. 

"Remove  the  bags." 

At  the  conclusion  of  this  labor,  this  impene- 
trable being  produced  a  small  rod  of  steel  from 
one  of  his  pockets,  one  end  of  which  concluded 
in  a  round  knob. 

With  this  he  proceeded  to  rap  the  walls  of 
the  inner  recess,  a  proceeding  of  which  Raikes 
inquired  the  purpose. 

[189] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

"I  want  to  ascertain,"  replied  Gratz,  "if 
there  is  any  vacancy  on  the  other  side." 

"I  could  have  saved  you  all  that  trouble," 
replied  Raikes.  "This  is  a  false  radiator,  the 
real  flue  is  on  the  other  side  of  the  room. 

"The  rear  of  this  small  safe  backs  up  against 
nearly  two  feet  of  solid  brickwork. 

"Exactly  behind  that  is  a  room  occupied  by 
one  no  more  burglarious  than  a  dressmaker's 
apprentice." 

"Thank  you,"  replied  Gratz.  "Your  infor- 
mation is  helpful,  but  I  am  never  satisfied  to 
rely  upon  description  when  investigation  is 
possible. 

"Whatever  deductions  I  make  from  this  ex- 
amination I  do  not  want  disturbed,  so  all  the 
doubts  they  dissipate  are  not  likely  to  intrude 
upon  my  calculations  again." 

After  a  few  further  taps,  in  which  Raikes 
could  see  no  better  purpose  than  to  retire  from 
an  embarrassing  position  with  some  show  of 
satisfied  motive,  Gratz  directed  that  the  bags 
be  returned. 

For  the  next  few  minutes  he  busied  himself 
with  the  locks,  upon  which  he  experimented 

[190] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

with  the  extraordinary  keys  which  Raikes  had 
given  him.  He  shot  the  bolts  backward  and 
forward;  noted  the  stout  bar  and  the  precau- 
tions for  keeping  it  in  place,  and  then  re- 
sumed the  seat  near  the  table. 

After  a  few  moments  he  said: 

"Tell  me  what  has  occurred  to  you  between 
sunrise  and  sunset  during  the  last  three  days." 

Raikes  recounted  his  usual  round  of  petty 
detail,  which  had  no  possible  bearing  upon  the 
problem. 

When  he  had  concluded  this  meager  resume, 
Gratz  continued : 

"Now  tell  me  about  the  nights." 

Raikes  complied  with  a  statement  of  his 
careful  precautions;  the  watch  of  his  sister 
upon  the  doorway  during  his  absence,  and  his 
visits  to  the  room  of  the  Sepoy. 

"The  Sepoy?"  inquired  Gratz.  "Why  do 
you  call  him  that?" 

"On  account  of  his  swarthy  complexion,  his 
bright  eyes,  and  his  general  alien  aspect,"  re- 
plied Robert. 

"Describe  him  to  me  as  carefully  as  you 
can,"  said  Gratz. 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

When  Robert  had  concluded  his  brief  de- 
lineation, Raikes  hastened  to  inquire:  "Why 
do  you  ask  about  him  so  particularly?  He 
could  no  more  enter  my  room,  under  the  condi- 
tions I  have  described  to  you,  than  you  could." 

"I  realize  that,"  admitted  the  detective,  "but 
I  gather  from  what  you  have  just  said  that 
you  visit  this  Sepoy,  as  you  call  him,  with  some 
degree  of  regularity.  May  I  ask  if  you  have 
business  transactions  with  him?" 

"I  have  not,"  replied  Raikes. 

Then,  in  response  to  the  unchanging  look  of 
inquiry  in  the  countenance  of  the  detective,  he 
added : 

"The  Sepoy  has  been  telling  me  an  extraor- 
dinary story.  It  has  been  too  elaborate  to 
confine  to  one  sitting,  and  my  purpose  in  re- 
visiting him  was  to  get  at  the  conclusion.  It  is 
most  interesting,  and  apparently  intermina- 
ble." 

"Would  you  object  to  relating  it  to  me?" 
inquired  Gratz. 

"Heavens!"  cried  Raikes,  aghast  at  the  pros- 
pect of  the  extended  effort  which  this  would 
impose  upon  him.  "Is  it  necessary?" 

[  192  ] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

"I  would  not  be  surprised,"  replied  Gratz. 
"At  any  rate,  if  your  story  is  more  mysterious 
than  the  predicament  which  confronts  us,  it 
must  be  worth  hearing." 

With  an  ill  grace,  after  making  the  elabor- 
ate arrangements  which  usually  precede  a 
protracted  campaign,  Raikes  hastened  to  com- 
ply with  the  request  of  the  detective. 

As  he  proceeded,  he  was  startled  to  note, 
now  that  he  made  his  first  conscious  effort  to 
review  the  weird  recital  of  the  Sepoy,  just  how 
vividly  the  incidents  presented  themselves. 

Aside  from  the  phraseology,  he  recounted, 
in  precise  order,  the  incredible  incidents,  and 
by  the  time  he  had  reached  the  climax  in  the 
first  division  of  his  effort  his  hearers  were  in- 
terested enough  to  hasten  through  a  light  meal, 
which,  at  the  suggestion  of  Gratz,  had  been 
sent  to  the  room  they  occupied. 

With  something  of  the  calculation  of  the 
Sepoy,  or  remembering,  perhaps,  the  effect 
which  his  abrupt  terminations  had  upon  him, 
Raikes  contrived  his  irritating  pauses  with  re- 
morseless enjoyment  and  the  ostensible  pur- 

[193] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

pose  of  stimulating  his  sorely  taxed  energies 
with  draughts  of  brandy  and  water. 

In  this  way  Raikes  consumed  the  time  until 
the  hour  of  eleven,  which  enabled  him  to  de- 
velop the  narrative  to  the  point  at  which  the 
Sepoy  had  concluded. 

"And  now,"  exclaimed  Raikes  with  unmis- 
takable relief,  as  he  signified  that  his  hearers 
were  in  possession  of  all  he  knew,  "and  now 
will  you  kindly  tell  me  what  you  expect  to  gain 
by  this  tedious  task  you  have  imposed  upon 
me?" 

Gratz  did  not  reply  at  once,  but  after  a  few 
moments  of  reflection,  he  asked,  apparently 
ignoring  the  question  of  the  narrator:  "Will 
you  give  me  the  keys  of  this  building  you  oc- 
cupy, and  indicate  to  me  the  means  of  rum- 
maging about  the  other  building  on  the  oppo- 
site side  of  the  wall?" 

"If  it  is  necessary,"  replied  Raikes  with 
grudging  assent. 

"Why  else  should  I  make  the  request?"  sug- 
gested Gratz  with  emotionless  directness  of 
speech  and  a  momentary  gleam  of  the  eyes. 

"True!"  responded  Raikes. 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

"Now,"  exclaimed  Gratz,  when  the  various 
keys  were  placed  in  his  hand,  "you  can  sleep 
in  peace  to-night,  and  bolt  your  doors  with  all 
the  assurance  in  the  world,  for  I  guarantee 
that  your  property  will  be  undisturbed." 

Then  turning  to  Robert,  he  said:  "I  want 
you  to  guide  me  for  a  short  while,  and  as  soon 
as  I  get  my  bearings  you  can  retire." 

At  this  the  two  bade  the  thoroughly  ex- 
hausted Raikes  good-night  and  departed  from 
the  room,  which  the  miser  hastily  secured  with 
his  usual  precautions. 

Without,  Robert  soon  discovered  that  his 
services  were  no  longer  required,  and  at  the 
suggestion  of  the  detective  he  retired,  after 
indicating  to  this  curious  official  that  when  he 
had  concluded  his  investigations  he  would  find 
a  cot  in  his  room  which  he  was  at  liberty  to 
occupy. 

As  dawn  began  to  make  its  appearance  on 
the  ensuing  morning,  Robert  was  disturbed  by 
a  curious  dream. 

He  appeared  to  be  alone  upon  a  fragile  raft 
in  the  midst  of  a  destructive  sea. 

Bit  by  bit  the  hastily  joined  structure  upon 

[195] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

which  he  rode  the  waters  so  insecurely  began 
to  disintegrate,  until  but  one  scarcely  sufficing 
plank  remained. 

To  this,  however,  he  clung  with  rapidly  fail- 
ing strength,  shouting  at  intervals  with  what 
vim  remained,  in  an  attempt  to  attract  the  at- 
tention of  the  keepers  of  the  light,  not  far 
away. 

But  with  devilish  perversity,  an  immense 
fog-horn  sent  forth  a  heavy  blast  seaward 
precisely  at  the  moments  he  raised  his  voice. 

No  matter  how  far  apart  or  how  near  he 
planned  the  intervals,  he  was  bound  to  coincide 
with  the  deafening  horn. 

At  last  in  despair  he  desisted  in  his  efforts, 
and  the  monster  horn,  with  hoarse  mockery, 
continued  its  grewsome  noises  at  dismal  inter- 
vals, until  one,  more  stentorian  than  the  others, 
caused  the  very  tempest  to  hush,  and  Robert 
awoke  to  discover  Gratz  the  cause  of  his  ficti- 
tious misery,  sleeping  upon  the  cot  near  the 
foot  of  his  bed,  emitting  a  series  of  snores  which 
had  managed  to  communicate  their  odious 
telepathy  to  his  slumbering  consciousness. 

As  this  singular  being  lay  there  in  the  re- 

1 196  ] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

laxation  and  undisguise  to  which  the  most  dip- 
lomatic must  submit  at  times,  his  countenance, 
so  impassive  in  his  wakeful  hours,  depicted 
singular  lines  of  determination. 

An  expression  of  tense  anxiety  contracted 
his  features;  resolution  held  the  thin  lips  in 
rigid  partnership ;  there  was  a  hint  of  purpose 
in  the  solitary  wrinkle  which  corrugated  his 
forehead;  the  general  aspect  was  impressive, 
its  suggestion  indefatigable. 

In  this  paradoxical  fashion,  the  emotions, 
concealed  during  the  day,  revealed  themselves 
at  night. 

What  in  others  would  have  concluded  in  a 
vacant  mien  and  colorless  repose,  in  him  ex- 
pressed all  that  he  was  so  sedulous  to  conceal. 

Scarcely  had  Robert  placed  his  feet  upon  the 
floor  when  Gratz  opened  his  eyes,  awakened 
partly  by  the  sounds  of  rising  and  partly  by  his 
tumult  of  snores,  and  in  an  instant  the  flaccid 
mask  descended  over  his  face,  and  Gratz  was 
his  apathetic  self  again. 

"Well?"  inquired  Robert. 

"You  have  said  it,"  replied  Gratz;  "it  is 
well." 

[197] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIEE 

"You  have  succeeded,  then?"  demanded 
Robert  breathlessly. 

"I  believe  so;  but  do  not  question  me  fur- 
ther just  now.  I  want  to  see  your  uncle  be- 
fore I  go." 

A  few  moments  later  the  two  presented 
themselves  before  the  closed  door  leading  to 
the  apartment  occupied  by  Raikes,  whom  they 
fancied  they  could  hear  stirring  about  within. 

In  answer  to  their  raps,  he  opened  the  door 
and  they  entered. 

"What  news?"  demanded  Raikes. 

"The  best,  I  hope;  but  I  will  not  communi- 
cate it  to  you  until  to-morrow  morning." 

"Ah!"  exclaimed  Raikes  with  manifest  dis- 
appointment. 

"But,"  continued  Gratz,  as  he  noted  the 
expression  on  the  face  of  the  other,  "at  that 
time  I  fancy  that  I  shall  not  only  have  solved 
the  mystery  but  I  will  also  secure  the  thief." 

"Do  you  know  him,  then?"  asked  Raikes. 

"You  are  wrong,"  replied  Gratz.  "Unless 
I  am  seriously  mistaken,  there  are  two." 

"Two!"  repeated  Raikes  incredulously. 

"Yes — but  listen:    I  am  anxious  to  hear  the 

[198] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

conclusion  of  that  remarkable  story  you  began 
last  night." 

"But,"  objected  Raikes,  "I  have  already  told 
you  all  I  know." 

"I  am  aware  of  that,"  answered  the  detec- 
tive, "but  your  friend,  the  Sepoy,  will  doubt- 
less oblige  you  with  the  balance.  Arrange  with 
him  at  breakfast-time  for  a  continuation.  I 
will  return  either  to-night  or  to-morrow  morn- 
ing to  hear  it." 

"But "  began  Raikes. 

"Do  not  refuse  to  do  as  I  ask,"  urged  Gratz 
impressively.  "It  may  be  useful;  I'm  inclined 
to  think  it  will." 

"Very  well,"  answered  Raikes.  "I  will  do 
as  you  suggest." 

"And,"  continued  Gratz,  "I  need  not  as- 
sure you  that  if  a  living  soul  learns  of  my  pres- 
ence here  last  night,  I  can  do  nothing  for  you." 

"I  understand,"  said  Raikes. 

"And  I,"  added  Robert. 

With  this  Gratz  departed,  and  Raikes  pre- 
pared to  make  his  appearance  in  the  dining- 
room. 

Advised  of  the  intention  of  her  brother  to 

[199] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

breakfast  at  the  table,  the  spinster  had  hastened 
to  precede  him,  and  by  the  time  Raikes  pre- 
sented himself  she  had  managed  to  bestow  a 
couple  of  furtive  biscuits  in  her  pocket,  and 
had  devoured  another  couple,  lavishly  buttered, 
accompanied  by  a  fairly  liberal  cut  of  beef- 
steak. 

Consequently,  when  Raikes  conveyed  his 
customary  intimation  that  she  was  at  liberty 
to  begin,  the  spinster  obediently  proceeded  to 
add  a  moderate  breakfast  to  the  one  she  had 
already  enjoyed. 

Trembling  lest  her  brother  would  remark  the 
developing  suggestions  of  well-being  which  had 
resulted  from  her  recent  regimen,  she  welcomed 
with  genuine  relief  the  advent  of  the  Sepoy,  to 
whom  Raikes  transferred  his  speculative 
glance. 

"Well!"  exclaimed  the  Sepoy,  "you  have  had 
quite  a  siege,  I  hear." 

"I  have,"  replied  Raikes  shortly;  then 
added  with  a  sort  of  grim  humor:  "My  physi- 
cian has  recommended  a  little  diversion,  and  I 
have  just  thought  of  a  simple  way  of  following 
his  advice." 

f  200  ] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

"What  is  that?"  asked  the  Sepoy. 

"I  would  like  to  present  myself  at  the  usual 
hour  and  hear  the  conclusion  of  the  story,  for 
I  judge,  from  the  predicament  of  Prince 
Otondo,  that  the  end  is  not  far  off." 

"Ah,  you  remember?"  exclaimed  the  Sepoy. 

"Decidedly!"  replied  Raikes. 

"Very  well,  then,"  returned  the  other. 
"Come  at  ten  and  I  will  gather  the  tangled 
threads  together." 

During  the  balance  of  that  day  Raikes  de- 
voted his  powers  of  concentration  to  the  con- 
summation of  the  treatment  to  which  he  had 
subjected  himself,  and  this,  together  with  the 
prospect  of  the  recovery  of  his  property,  re- 
sulted in  a  condition  which  made  the  visits  of 
the  astonished  physician  no  longer  necessary. 

With  an  eagerness  intensified  to  a  childish 
impatience,  almost,  by  the  vague  suggestions 
of  Gratz  that  the  story  would  be  personally 
interesting,  and  exhausting  his  mind  with  fu- 
tile speculations  as  to  the  manner  of  its  appli- 
cation to  the  unnatural  conditions  which  dis- 
tressed him  so,  Raikes  at  last  concluded  his 
contemplation  of  the  clock,  and  promptly  upon 

[2011 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

the  stroke  of  ten,  hastened  from  his  room  and 
hurried  to  the  apartment  occupied  by  the 
Sepoy. 

Seating  himself  in  the  chair  indicated  by  his 
host,  he  shortly  found  that  he  was  unable  to 
avoid  recalling  his  recent  guilty  appropriation 
of  the  diamond,  and  a  degree  of  confusion, 
which  he  could  not  entirely  disguise,  mani- 
fested itself  in  his  difficulty  of  adjusting  his 
eyes  to  the  inscrutable  gaze  of  the  Sepoy. 

On  this  occasion  the  narrator,  as  hitherto, 
did  not  provide  his  auditor  with  a  brilliant  to 
look  upon  during  the  progress  of  the  story— 
an  omission  that  was  radiantly  repaired  by  the 
two  lambent  gems  in  the  eyes  of  the  former. 

Upon  these  the  shifting  gaze  of  the  restless 
listener  finally  fastened  itself  with  a  fascina- 
tion which  he  found  it  impossible  to  resist,  and 
the  Sepoy,  with  all  the  modulated  lights  and 
shadows  of  ardor,  animation,  lethargy,  somno- 
lence, peace,  with  which  he  complemented  his 
sedative  phrases,  began: 

(The  conclusion  of  this  interesting  tale  will 
be  found  on  Bosom  No.  1,  Dickey  Series  C.) 

[202] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

As  Dennis  looked  up  from  his  reading,  a 
pair  of  eyes  of  unclouded  blue,  vivid  with  in- 
terest and  altogether  friendly,  met  his  animated 
glance. 

With  alert  intuition  his  sweet-faced  auditor 
believed  that  she  discovered  a  shadow  of  vexa- 
tion in  the  ingenuous  countenance  of  the 
reader. 

"What  is  it?"  she  asked. 

To  Dennis,  in  his  absorption,  it  seemed  im- 
possible that  the  question  could  refer  to  any- 
thing else  than  the  habitual  disability  at  the 
end  of  each  chapter,  and  he  answered 
promptly : 

"  Tis  the  way  the  dickey  ends — to  be  con- 
cluded in  Series  C — an'  it's  me  here  an'  Series 
C  in  Baxter  Street,  so  I  can't  read  the  rest; 
it's  too  bad,  so  it  is." 

"So  it  is,"  repeated  the  lady  softly,  with  a 
dexterous  parody  of  his  concluding  words,  but 
with  a  subtle  intimation  in  her  manner  that  she 
did  not  consider  the  inconvenient  termination 
such  a  misfortune,  after  all,  and  that  it  some- 
how suggested  an  alternative  that  was  not  dis- 
pleasing. 

[  203  ] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

"Do  you  want  to  hear  the  rest?"  asked 
Dennis  frankly. 

"I  do,  indeed,"  replied  his  companion  with 
an  adroitly  conveyed  insinuation  of  disap- 
pointed expectation  that  seemed  to  place  the 
responsibility  of  measuring  to  this  agreeable 
emergency  entirely  upon  Dennis. 

The  same  degree  of  sensitiveness  which 
leaves  an  Irishman  so  open  to  offense,  enables 
him,  with  equal  celerity,  to  comprehend  a  hint, 
and  Dennis,  when  he  realized  that  the  lady  un- 
derstood that  the  continuation  of  the  tale  in- 
volved a  subsequent  reading,  exclaimed,  with  a 
delicious  paraphrase  of  Sancho  Panza:  "God 
bless  the  man  who  first  invented  'Continued 
in  our  next!' 3 

Presently  the  one  certain  that  her  telepathy 
had  not  miscarried,  and  the  other  equally  con- 
vinced that  his  reception  of  the  message  was 
accredited  to  him,  the  conversation  was  given 
an  abrupt  direction  by  an  apparently  alien 
question : 

"Do  you  know  anything  about  flowers?" 
asked  his  companion. 

"Only  the  difference  between  a  rose  and  a 

[204] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

cauliflower,"  replied  Dennis  with  a  twinkle  in 
his  eye,  to  which  the  lady  responded  with  a 
shade  of  disappointment. 

"An'  why  flowers?"  asked  Dennis. 

"Listen!"  answered  the  lady  with  a  slight  re- 
turn of  her  original  sadness. 

"Eleven  months  ago  I  was  left  a  widow. 

"My  husband's  estate  consisted  of  a  mod- 
erate amount  of  life  insurance,  a  prosperous 
business,  and  no  debts. 

"He  was  a  florist. 

"The  establishment  is  located  in  the  heart  of 
a  very  fashionable  district. 

"There  has  scarcely  been  a  function  of  the 
elite  in  this  section  which  my  husband  has  not 
supplied  with  floral  decorations. 

"His  taste  was  exquisite,  and  his  taste  was 
his  undoing,  for  he  added  refinement  to  re- 
finement until  he  began  to  lose  sight  of  the 
practical  side  of  existence. 

"By  degrees  he  became  as  attenuated  as 
some  of  the  tendrils  he  cultivated  with  such 
absorption,  and  as  frail  as  an  orchid. 

"The  intrusion  of  a  pronounced  scent  was 
sufficient  to  induce  a  serious  nervous  disturb- 

[205] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

ance,  and  he  could  no  more  endure  dispropor- 
tionate and  sharp  distinctions  of  color  than  a 
lapidary  could  tolerate  a  serious  unevenness  of 
facets. 

"I  was  compelled  to  paper  his  room  with  a 
delicate  shade  of  lavender. 

"The  furniture  was  stained  a  light  buff,  and 
the  upholstering  was  a  delicate  cretonne 
livened  by  exquisite  tracings  of  wisteria. 

"The  carpet  was  light  blue,  surrounded  by 
a  border  of  deeper  blue,  lightly  emphasized  by 
suggestions  of  trailing  arbutus. 

"Despite  all  this,"  continued  the  lady  sadly 
as  she  paused  to  enjoy  an  intentness  of  interest 
on  the  part  of  the  bewildered  Dennis,  so  pro- 
found that  the  dickey  backs  had  been  permitted 
to  fall  unregarded  to  the  ground,  and  their 
printed  extravagances,  by  contrast  with  this 
unusual  recital,  relegated  to  the  most  prosaic 
of  occurrences,  "despite  all  these  precautions, 
the  most  carefully  guarded  recesses  are  not 
entirely  secure. 

"For  one  day  an  elaborately  protected  pack- 
age arrived  during  my  absence,  and  my  hus- 
band opened  it. 

.[206] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

"At  once  a  pungent,  overpowering  sweetness 
filled  the  air,  and  the  very  surfeit  of  its  fra- 
grance threw  my  husband  into  a  convulsion  of 
delight  .which  ended  in  a  stupor  so  replete  that 
we  were  able  only  to  restore  the  poor  man  to 
consciousness  by  hypodermics  of — what  was  to 
him  a  most  violent  stimulant — Cambric  Tea." 

Dennis  looked  his  astonishment  at  these  ac- 
cumulating refinements,  and  in  the  pause  that 
followed  the  narration  of  this  last  episode  he 
inquired,  with  the  appreciative  hesitation  of  one 
who  is  reluctant  to  advance  lest  he  destroy  the 
dewr-gemmed  tracery  of  a  fragile  spider's  web. 

"An*  what  kind  of  flowers  did  all  this?" 

"Cape  Jessamine,"  replied  the  lady;  "and  we 
were  never  able  to  discover  who  sent  them. 

"His  physicians  claimed  that  his  disorder 
was  paralleled  by  similar  disturbances  in- 
stanced in  pathological  records,  but  that  the 
contributing  causes  were  different  and  that  my 
husband's  particular  debility  was  not  induced 
by  his  devotion  to  flowers  but  aggravated  by 
it. 

"To  further  complicate  matters,  the  physi- 
cian assured  me  that  to  deprive  the  invalid  of 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

his  floral  diversions  would  be  to  remove  his 
remaining  impulse  to  continued  existence. 

"He  went  on  to  say  that  he  had  reached  the 
limit  of  his  skill,  and  that  nothing  further  was 
to  be  done  than  to  surround  the  sufferer  with 
placid  considerations  and  neutral  odors,  arid 
intimated  that  he  disliked  to  contemplate  the 
possible  result  of  a  second  contact  with  Cape 
Jessamine. 

"In  a  short  time  it  became  evident  that  I 
possessed  merely  the  essence  of  a  husband,  and 
one  day,  as  he  wafted — that's  the  word,  for  his 
step  seemed  to  be  almost  devoid  of  specific 
gravity — so  I  repeat,  one  day,  as  he  wafted  to 
the  room  in  which  he  usually  experimented 
.with  his  floral  attenuations,  I  happened  to  be 
engaged  in  the  dwelling  adjoining  the  con- 
servatory and  into  which  it  opened. 

"Presently,  my  duties  concluded,  I  pro- 
ceeded in  the  direction  taken  by  my  husband. 

"As  I  advanced  I  grew  momently  conscious 
of  a  ravishing  fragrance  which  seemed  to  per- 
vade and  invite  the  consciousness  to  all  varie- 
ties of  agreeable  surrender. 

\ 
[208] 


"Ah! — in  a  moment  I  recognized  this  pun- 
gent delight:  Cape  Jessamine! 

"Aware  of  the  consequences  to  him  should 
he  inhale  anything  so  transporting,  I  hastened 
forward. 

"The  fragrance  grew  stronger  as  I  hurried 
on.  It  seemed  to  envelop  every  delicate,  faint- 
ing scent  in  the  conservatory,  and  as  I  placed 
my  hand  upon  the  door-latch  leading  to  the 
section  where  I  was  positive  my  husband  would 
be  found,  I  knew  that  I  had  traced  the  occa- 
sion to  its  source. 

"In  another  second  I  had  opened  the  door, 
and  there,  a  few  feet  away,  lay  my  unfortu- 
nate husband. 

"I  hurried  to  his  side. 

"His  countenance,  which  exhibited  that  sin- 
gular placidity  which  sometimes  comes  with 
death,  was  as  serene  as  a  lily,  and  gave  no  evi- 
dence of  the  convulsion  that  must  have  ensued. 

"He  was  dead. 

"All  about  him,  distributed  with  devilish  ma- 
lignity and  criminal  intent,  were  various  clus- 
ters of  the  flowers  that  had  transported  him, 
literally." 

[  209  ] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

"My  God!"  exclaimed  Dennis.  "What  a 
situation!" 

"Wasn't  it?"  exclaimed  the  widow.  "It  al- 
most equals  the  story  on  the  dickeys."' 

"Equals!"  exclaimed  Dennis  with  profound 
conviction.  "I  don't  know  that  I  care  to  read 
the  balance  of  the  story  after  this.  Do  you 
know  the  guilty  party?" 

"I  think  so,"  answered  the  widow;  "but  you 
can  judge  for  yourself  as  I  proceed. 

"Now  follow  me  closely." 

There  was  no  need  of  this  advice,  for  Dennis 
would  not  have  missed  a  word  for  the  world, 
and  gazed  upon  the  sweet-faced  narrator  with 
a  sort  of  superstitious  admiration  as  she  con- 
tinued : 

"Since  his  death  the  patronage  is  larger  than 
ever. 

"I  now  find  myself  confronted  with  what  is 
equivalent  to  an  embarrassment  of  riches  on 
the  one  hand,  and  a  famine  of  intelligent  help 
on  the  other." 

At  this  statement  Dennis  attempted  not  to 
appear  too  deeply  interested. 

"I  employ  a  manager,  the  one  we  have  al- 

[210], 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

ways  had,  who  desires  to  become  a  partner  in 
the  business ;  but  his  proposition  is  handicapped 
by  the  character  of  the  consideration  he  is  will- 
ing to  offer  for  such  an  interest. 

"In  other  words,  he  considers  that  a  proposal 
of  marriage  is  an  equivalent  for  any  financial 
objection  I  may  suggest." 

Despite  his  efforts,  Dennis  looked  troubled. 

The  lady  smiled  and  continued: 

"I  received  this  proposition  two  months 
since.  Its  suddenness  surprised  a  plan  which 
I  have  been  perfecting  for  a  long  time. 

"In  order  to  avoid  any  interruption  to  my 
purposes,  I  permitted  the  manager  to  believe 
that  I  was  impressed  with  his  offer,  but  desired 
a  little  time  for  consideration." 

"An'  true,  now,"  asked  Dennis  with  genu- 
ine Irish  impulse,  "an'  true,  now,  were  you?" 

The  lady  smiled  again.  "Wait,"  she  urged, 
"you  shall  see. 

"I  have  never  trusted  this  man.  He  is  not 
only  personally  obnoxious  to  me,  but  I  fear 
that  I  cannot  rely  upon  his  business  integrity. 

"Little  by  little,  I  have  gathered  together 
the  threads  of  the  business,  and  I  now  have  a 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

strong  legal  grip  upon  the  situation,  which 
enables  me  to  decline  this  alliance  with  no  pos- 
sible jeopardy  to  the  property. 

"But  one  consideration  restrains  me:  I  need 
a  man  of  enterprise  and  address  to  succeed 
him.  And  now,"  she  added  with  a  simple,  busi- 
ness-like directness,  "I  have  a  suggestion  to 
offer: 

"You  ransack  Baxter  Street  to-morrow  for 
Dickey  Series  C,  and  come  with  it  to  this  ad- 
dress," and  she  placed  a  small  card  in  his  hand. 

"We  can  reach  the  end  of  the  story,  in  which 
I  am  exceedingly  interested,  and  when  we  have 
set  our  minds  at  rest  on  that  point,  I  will  give 
myself  the  pleasure  of  listening  to  whatever 
recommendations  you  may  offer  as  to  your  fit- 
ness to  take  the  place  of  the  retiring  manage- 
ment." 

"Oh!"  exclaimed  Dennis  as  he  went  through 
an  absurd  pantomime  of  punching  himself, 
"an*  is  it  awake  you  are,  Dennis  Muldoon?" 

At  this  the  lady,  with  a  cordial  smile,  indi- 
cated that  the  interview  was  at  an  end,  and  as 
she  turned  to  depart,  said:  "You  will  come, 
then,  to-morrow  night?" 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

And  Dennis,  hat  in  hand,  with  an  unmis- 
takable deference  of  attitude  and  demeanor, 
cheerily  responded  with  a  query  that  required 
no  further  answer  than  a  rosy  acknowledg- 
ment: 

"Will  a  duck  swim?" 


[  213  ] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 


CHAPTER  VIII 

ON  the  succeeding  morning  it  seemed  to  the 
foreman  of  the  shipping  department  of  the 
publishers  that  his  new  marker  did  not  mani- 
fest the  same  enthusiasm  for  his  work  which 
had  distinguished  his  earlier  efforts. 

It  looked  to  him  as  if  Dennis  handled  his 
paint-brush  with  the  mien  of  one  who  con- 
sidered his  occupation  a  diversion  rather  than 
a  means  of  livelihood. 

As  the  day  advanced  and  Dennis  located  an 
"e"  in  the  spot  designed  for  an  "i,"  and  con- 
cluded an  address  with  Detroit  in  place  of  Du- 
luth,  the  foreman  was  more  than  ever  con- 
vinced that  something  was  wrong,  and  asked 
the  young  man  if  he  was  not  feeling  well. 

"Sure!"  exclaimed  Dennis,  a  degree  too 
cheerily,  the  foreman  thought,  in  view  of  his 
delinquencies  with  the  brush,  "sure;  but  why 
do  you  ask?" 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

"Well,"  returned  the  foreman,  "iv'ry  thing's 
wid  you  this  mornin*  but  yure  head,"  and  he 
pointed  out  several  blunders  which  Dennis  had 
made. 

"Sure,  an'  I'm  sorry  for  that,"  he  said  with 
blushing  contriteness ;  "it  will  not  happen 
again." 

The  foreman,  however,  had  told  the  truth 
only  in  part,  for  Dennis  had  left  not  only  his 
head  behind  him,  but  a  considerable  portion  of 
his  heart. 

All  day  he  continued  to  think  about  the 
sweet-faced  woman  who  had  listened  with  such 
gratifying  attention  to  the  story,  and  more 
than  once,  in  his  agreeable  preoccupation,  had 
he  noted  an  impulse  to  substitute  the  address 
she  had  provided  for  the  one  demanded  by  the 
shipping  invoices. 

"To-night  at  eight,"  he  repeated  to  himself 
over  and  over,  like  the  refrain  of  a  popular  bal- 
lad, invariably  concluding,  by  way  of  chorus: 
"Oh,  I'll  be  there;  oh,  I'll  be  there." 

Therefore,  as  soon  as  his  day's  duties  were 
over,  Dennis  speeded  to  Baxter  Street  in 
search  of  Dickey  Series  C. 

[215] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

After  a  foray  in  a  half  dozen  separate  estab- 
lishments, where  neckties,  collars  and  all  the 
accessories  were  offered  in  place  of  what  he 
required,  he  succeeded  at  last  in  securing  the 
missing  series. 

At  The  Stag  he  was  so  full  of  emotion  and 
anticipation  that  there  was  little  room  for  such 
a  substantial  consideration  as  supper,  so,  dis- 
missing that  he  proceeded  to  his  room,  and 
after  indulging  in  the  luxury  of  one  of  the  few 
genuine  shirts  which  remained  to  him,  he  an- 
ticipated  his  appointment  a  half  hour  by  board- 
ing the  elevated,  which  carried  him  shortly  to 
a  point  within  three  blocks  of  his  destination. 

In  order  that  he  might  not  appear  too  anx- 
ious or  come  into  a  premature  collision  with 
social  usage,  Dennis  obliged  himself  to  walk 
slowly  in  the  vicinity  indicated  by  the  address. 

The  general  aspect  of  his  immediate  sur- 
roundings looked  promising  and  offered  a  com- 
fortable assurance  that  his  visit  would  not  in- 
troduce him  to  a  disappointment. 

At  last,  from  the  opposite  side  of  the  street, 
he  was  able  to  measure,  with  an  approving 

[216] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

glance,  a  prepossessing  dwelling  of  four  stories 
and  a  mansard. 

The  front  was  of  brown  stone  and  differed 
but  little  from  its  neighbors,  but  to  Dennis  it 
seemed  that  it  possessed  an  identity  which  was 
largely  the  recollection  of  the  lingering  pres- 
ence of  its  owner. 

Directly  alongside,  a  large  conservatory  ex- 
tended rearward  an  indefinite  length. 

The  glittering  front  was  picturesque  with 
clusters  of  ingeniously  disposed  electric  lights 
within,  which  revealed  to  advantage  a  mass  of 
varied  plants  and  flowers  in  prosperous  abun- 
dance. 

Charmed  by  the  glow  and  color,  and  stimu- 
lated by  the  dancing  lights,  Dennis  presented 
himself  "on  the  minute"  before  the  door  of 
the  adjacent  dwelling. 

In  response  to  his  ring,  a  trim,  bright-eyed 
maid  appeared,  who,  accepting  his  name  in 
place  of  his  card  with  an  amiable  lack  of  sur- 
prise, instructed  him  to  enter,  which  he  did, 
with  alert,  observing  eyes. 

Although  Dennis  was  not  much  of  a  judge 
of  the  elaborate  surroundings  in  which  he 

[217] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

found  himself,  he  figured  it  out  that  the  busi- 
ness of  a  florist  must  be  a  profitable  one,  and 
speculated,  with  wondering  calculation,  upon 
the  length  of  time  and  the  degree  of  applica- 
tion demanded  to  enable  him  to  possess  similar 
advantages. 

Acting  upon  the  parting  instructions  of  the 
widow,  Dennis  had  already  canvassed  his  eli- 
gible points  and  was  prepared  to  give  an  ac- 
count of  himself  that  was  little  short  of  eulogy. 

At  this  juncture  in  his  reflections  the  hang- 
ings at  the  parlor  entrance  parted  with  a 
musical  swish  that  was  suggestive  of  feminine 
approach,  and  the  widow  advanced  into  the 
room,  with  one  slender  hand  extended  in  cor- 
dial informality. 

If  this  woman  had  seemed  charming  to  him 
in  the  park,  she  was  certainly  bewitching  now. 

The  street  costume  in  which  she  had  first 
appeared  was  replaced  by  a  gown  of  some 
clinging  white  fabric,  which  shimmered  the 
light  with  a  thousand  blending  radiations  and 
fitted  to  every  movement  and  contour  like  an 
embrace  conscious  of  its  privileges. 

A  delicate  collar  of  filmy  lace  surrounded  her 

[  218  ] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

neck  like  the  intricate  etchings  of  frost  upon 
frost,  and  this  was  fastened  with  a  solitary 
pearl  as  chaste  as  the  exquisite  skin  with  which 
it  managed  to  offer  only  the  faintest  contrast. 

Her  head,  crowned  with  a  wavy  nimbus  of 
Titian  auburn,  was  superbly  set  upon  her  fine, 
symmetrical  shoulders. 

As  she  flashed  upon  the  vision  of  this  palpi- 
tating young  man  through  the  parting  cur- 
tains, like  a  dramatic  climax  or  the  goddess  of 
reward,  or  denunciation,  she  seemed  to  Dennis, 
whose  mythology  was  centralized  from  that 
moment,  like  another  Aphrodite  churned  into 
lovely  being  by  the  sea. 

At  the  entrance  of  this  beautiful  woman 
Dennis  had  risen  to  his  feet,  and  stood  for  a 
moment,  offering,  with  his  helpless  silence,  a 
compliment  whose  genuineness  she  thoroughly 
enjoyed. 

When  at  last  his  tongue  resumed  its  func- 
tion, Dennis,  like  many  another  with  even  more 
self-possession  and  experience,  uttered  just  the 
words  which  were  intended  for  concealment,  as 
he  stammered: 

"An'  it's  no  wonder,  at  all,  at  all." 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

The  exclamation,  however,  was  barely  above 
a  whisper,  and  it  was  only  by  following  the 
motion  of  his  lips  and  a  shrewd  intuition  as  to 
the  rest  which  enabled  the  widow  to  realize 
what  he  had  uttered,  as  she  asked,  smiling  to 
note  that  the  young  man  had  neglected  to  re- 
lease her  hand : 

"And  what  is  it  that  is  no  wonder?" 

At  this  question,  Dennis,  deserted  for  the 
moment  by  his  customary  adroitness,  was  un- 
able to  do  anything  else  than  respond,  without 
evasion  or  subterfuge : 

"Well,  I  was  thinkin'  it's  no  wonder  the 
manager  wanted  to  go  into  the  business."  -*a$ 

"Ah!"  laughed  the  widow  with  genuine  en- 
joyment and  a  sensible  realization  of  the  spirit 
which  urged  his  exclamation  and  its  explana- 
tion, "that  is  Irish,  I  am  sure";  and  with  that 
Dennis  began  to  feel  more  at  home,  although 
still  subdued  by  the  accumulation  of  practical 
beatitudes. 

'Tell  me,"  he  said,  when  each  was  agreeably 
established,  Dennis  upon  a  comfortable  divan 
and  his  listener  in  a  chair  which  supplied  its 
fascinating  occupant  with  a  sort  of  solicitous 

[  220  ] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

support,  which  Dennis  assured  himself  would 
be  poetry  realized  if  he  could  be  permitted  to 
share,  "tell  me,  shall  I  recite  my  abilities  first 
or  read  the  story?" 

"Suppose,"  suggested  his  hearer,  "we  hear 
the  story  first  and  reserve  your  catalogue  as  a 
climax,  like  the  dessert  after  the  banquet." 

"All  right!"  assented  Dennis,  as  he  produced 
a  circular  bundle,  from  which  he  extracted  his 
absurd  medium. 

\  "One  moment,"  suggested  his  hearer,  as  she 
arranged  an  electric  cluster  in  a  manner  that 
enabled  her  to  witness  every  alternation  of  ex- 
pression in  that  mobile  countenance — "now." 
f  Withdrawing  his  gaze  from  the  sweet  face  of 
his  auditor  with  a  reluctance  sufficiently 
marked  to  advance  him  several  leagues  further 
in  her  good  graces,  Dennis,  directing  his  at- 
tention to  the  closely-printed  dickey,  began, 
with  racy  Irish  emphasis,  as  follows: 

"With  a  bound  the  prince  swept  aside  the 
curtains  and  reached  his  room. 

"Advancing  to  the  gong,  which  was  sus- 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

pended  by  silken  cords  near  the  divan,  he 
struck  it  sharply  several  times. 

"There  was  no  response. 

"He  repeated  his  summons  with  the  added 
vigor  of  his  irritation  at  the  delay. 

"Only  the  sullen  echo  answered. 

"With  impatient  incredulity  the  prince  was 
about  to  hasten  to  the  ante-room  in  which  his 
faithful  Sepoy  had  always  been  found,  when  a 
strange  trembling  seized  his  limbs. 

"A  confusion  obscured  his  mind;  his  sight 
grew  dim. 

"Alarmed  at  this  unusual  sensation,  the 
prince,  asserted  himself  against  its  depressing 
influence  with  all  his  customary  resolution,  and 
was  finally  able  to  reach  the  ante-room. 

"It  was  deserted ! 

"He  hastened  to  the  passageway  outside. 

"Not  a  soul  was  visible;  an  unearthly  still- 
ness prevailed. 

*  'Ah !'  he  cried  with  sudden  realization,  'my 
messenger  has  been  too  liberal  with  his  news; 
they  have  heard  of  the  British  advance.' 

"Thirty  vital  minutes  had  passed,  and  away 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

in  the  dim  distance  an  animated  spot  of  red  and 
gleam  began  to  emerge. 

"Again  that  inexplicable  numbness  and 
alarming  physical  weakness. 

"With  trembling  hands  he  supported  him- 
self along  the  walls  and  finally  reached  the 
apartment  in  which  he  held  his  mimic  court. 

"A  burning  thirst  began  to  parch  his  lips 
and  throat ;  he  hastened  to  the  carafe  in  which 
the  water  for  his  use  was  usually  held. 

"It  was  empty. 

'  'Ah!"  the  prince  groaned  aloud;  the  veins 
of  his  forehead  knotted ;  a  sharp,  strained  look 
appeared  in  his  eyes,  and  he  shivered  with  a 
mortal  chill. 

"A  stinging,  sharp  surge  attracted  his  atten- 
tion to  his  right  wrist. 

"It  was  swollen  beyond  its  usual  size,  and  a 
bluish  discoloration  surrounded  the  livid  line 
where  the  dagger  point  had  penetrated. 

"He  placed  his  hands  together  and  noted 
their  disproportion,  considered  the  wounded 
arm,  and  then — he  remembered. 

'The  dagger!'  he  gasped,  and  a  new  horror 
charged  his  bloodshot  eyes  as  he  recalled  the 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

devilish  craft  employed  by  the  natives  to  en- 
venom their  weapons. 

"  'Poisoned!  and  by  Lai  Lu!' 

"At  this  thought  the  malignant  light  of  a 
fearful  determination  illumed  his  features  and 
revealed  their  frightful  distortion. 

'  'I  shall  not — go — alone !'  he  sighed,  and  re- 
possessing himself  of  the  fatal  dagger,  which 
he  had  cast  upon  the  table  on  entering  the 
room,  he  rose  from  the  chair,  looked  with  fear- 
ful purpose  upon  the  curtains  which  disguised 
the  entrance  to  the  secret  passageway  from 
which  he  had  emerged  but  a  short  time  before, 
took  one  step  forward,  and  then  fell  inertly  on 
to  the  couch  from  which  he  had  risen  in  the  ex- 
citement of  his  malignant  impulse. 

'  'Ha!'  The  faint  sound  of  an  alien  air 
smote  his  ears. 

'The  bagpipes !'  he  muttered ;  'the  Scots, 
the  hellish  Highlanders.' 

"Nearer  and  nearer  the  lively  air  was  borne 
to  him. 

"His  raging  pulse  thrummed  through  his 
palpitating  veins  a  rhythmic,  mocking  accom- 
paniment to  the  swelling  music. 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

"His  frame  stiffened  and  stretched  as  though 
subjected  to  the  distortion  of  the  ancient  rack. 

"The  agony  was  unendurable.  With  a  final 
conscious  effort  he  reached  for  the  poisoned 
weapon  to  bring  his  sufferings  to  a  summary 
conclusion,  but  his  failing  will  could  no  longer 
vitalize  his  palsied  arm,  and  with  a  gasp  that 
seemed  to  rend  his  tortured  body,  to  the  weird 
orchestration  of  that  refrain  which  was  des- 
tined in  the  near  future  to  herald  such  joy  at 
Lucknow,  'The  Campbells  Are  Coming,  Hi- 
ay,  Hi-ay!'  the  spirit  of  Prince  Otondo  re- 
turned to  Him  who  gave  it,  to  be  put  into  what 
repair  was  possible  for  such  a  proposition. 

"As  the  last  writhing  rigor  ceased  to  con- 
vulse his  frame,  the  prince  lurched  forward, 
and  his  body  collapsed  into  an  attitude  not 
unlike  that  of  one  engaged  in  some  dejecting 
reflection. 

"By  a  singular  nervous  caprice  he  had  raised 
his  hands  to  his  face,  which  he  had  clutched  in 
his  agony,  and  his  elbows  rested  upon  the  table 
in  grewsome  support  of  his  head. 

"This  ghastly  calm,  however,  of  which  he 
was  the  center,  was  to  be  interrupted. 

[  225  J 


"A  trumpet  blast  sounded  without  the  gate ; 
a  clamor  of  voices  filled  the  air. 

"The  bagpipes,  in  anticipation  of  some  show 
of  resistance,  had  ceased  their  stirring  strains ; 
within,  the  silence  of  an  ambuscade  prevailed. 

"Suddenly,  through  the  unguarded  en- 
trance rushed  a  body  of  red-coated  soldiers; 
but  their  advance  was  unopposed;  the  court- 
yard was  abandoned. 

"One  danger  alone  remained — an  attack 
from  within.  But  there  was  none  to  receive  the 
detested  intruders  but  the  pulseless  master, 
from  whom  all  majesty  had  departed. 

"Over  the  grounds  they  swarmed,  through 
the  doors,  along  the  passageways. 

"Abreast  of  the  leading  officer  appeared  the 
turbaned  head  and  white-robed  figure  of  Ram 
Lai. 

"As  the  two  entered  the  apartment  and 
gazed  upon  its  silent  occupant,  with  the  same 
impulse  both  came  to  a  standstill,  impressed 
by  the  unnatural  attitude  and  the  chill  un- 
demonstration  of  the  richly-clad  figure. 

'  'It  is  the  prince!'  cried  Ram  Lai. 

"At  once  the  officer  turned  to  command  the 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

curious  detachment  which  had  followed  them 
to  remain  without,  and  placing  a  sergeant  on 
guard  in  the  ante-room,  he  resumed  his  inves- 
tigation of  the  dead  man. 

"He  had  not  seen  the  quick  approach  of 
Ram  Lai,  nor  the  rapid  movement  of  his 
searching  hand. 

"It  was  over  in  an  instant,  hut  in  that  in- 
stant Ram  Lai  had  assured  himself  of  the 
presence  of  the  precious  jacket  beneath  the 
cambric  folds. 

'  'He  is  dead !'  he  cried  to  the  officer,  as  the 
latter  approached  to  discover  some  reason  for 
this  shocking  sight. 

'  'He  is  still  warm,'  exclaimed  the  other,  as 
he  placed  his  hand,  with  careless  familiarity, 
upon  the  cheek  of  the  prince. 

:  'Let  us  see,'  he  continued,  'if  his  heart  still 
beats.' 

"As  the  officer  knelt  in  order  to  accommo- 
date his  head  to  the  leaning  position  of  the 
body,  Ram  Lai  stood  as  one  transfixed. 

"His  hand  crept  slowly  to  the  dagger  upon 
the  table,  which  he  grasped  with  an  expression 
of  desperate  determination  as  the  officer  placed 

[227] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

his  ear  close  to  the  riches  concealed  beneath  the 
tunic  of  the  prince. 

"Kneeling  thus,  with  scarcely  a  hand- 
breadth  between  him  and  wealth  such  as  he 
had  never  dared  to  dream  of,  with  the  menacing 
figure  of  the  merchant  directly  above  him,  pre- 
pared to  strike  at  the  least  indication  of  sus- 
picion of  the  jacket  and  its  priceless  contents, 
the  pair  presented  a  striking  tableau  of  the 
sardonic  jest  in  which  fate  sometimes  indulges 
in  providing  such  nearness  of  opportunity  and 
such  a  threat  to  its  embrace. 

'There  is  something  thick  about  the  body!* 
exclaimed  the  kneeling  officer. 

"Ram  Lai  crept  nearer. 

'Yes,'  he  replied  with  a  stifled  voice,  as  he 
shot  a  quick  glance  toward  the  curtained  door- 
way, on  the  other  side  of  which  the  sergeant 
was  posted,  'yes,  the  prince  was  of  a  phthisical 
tendency. 

'  'He  was  compelled  to  protect  himself 
against  inequalities  of  temperature.' 

"At  this  instant  the  quick  eye  of  the  mer- 
chant detected  the  livid  scratch  on  the  dead 
man's  arm.  'Ha!'  he  cried,  with  an  intonation 

[228] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

which  caused  the  officer  to  forego  his  examina- 
tion for  the  moment  and  regard  the  merchant 
attentively. 

*  'Here!'  cried  the  latter,  pointing  to  the 
discolored  and  swollen  wrist,  'here!  There  is 
no  need  to  look  for  further  sign  of  life;  his 
heart  will  beat  no  more.  This  dagger  has  been 
inserted  in  the  poison  sac  of  the  cobra — and 
here  is  the  result!* 

"As  the  officer  rose  to  regard  the  wound, 
and  understood  its  significance,  he  shuddered 
and  looked  upon  the  hapless  heir-apparent  with 
a  sort  of  bluff  compassion,  but  he  made  no  fur- 
ther attempt  to  pursue  his  investigations,  and 
Ram  Lai  was  spared  one  sanguinary  entry 
upon  the  book  of  his  recording  angel. 

'  'At  least,'  said  the  officer,  as  if  in  continua- 
tion of  some  unexpressed  idea,  'let  us  do  our- 
selves the  honor  of  disposing  the  prince  upon 
his  bed' ;  and  Ram  Lai  supporting  the  head  and 
shoulders  and  the  officer  grasping  the  feet,  they 
carried  the  stiffened  form  to  the  bed. 

'  'May  I  ask  the  privilege,'  said  Ram  Lai, 
'of  composing  the  features  and  the  body  of  the 
prince  ?' 

[229] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

'  'Surely,'  replied  the  officer,  as  he  bestowed 
a  departing  glance  upon  this  last  descendant 
of  the  long  line  of  moghuls  with  a  degree  of 
deference  that  was  the  result  of  his  military 
training  and  his  own  subjection  to  discipline, 
'surely  he  is  sadly  in  need  of  such  a  service.' 

"For  his  arms,  although  disengaged  some- 
what by  their  efforts,  and  the  clutch  of  the  dis- 
torted fingers,  though  not  so  distended,  still 
pointed  upward  in  a  sort  of  eerie,  rigid  salu- 
tation to  the  subdued  watchers. 

"The  eyes,  too,  which  but  a  short  time  be- 
fore had  been  so  vivid  with  the  contentions  of 
restraint  and  desire,  stared  with  a  ghastly  lack 
of  speculation. 

"As  the  officer  turned  to  leave  Ram  Lai  un- 
disturbed in  the  performance  of  this  last  duty 
to  the  dead,  the  merchant,  presently  assured 
that  he  would  be  free  from  intrusion  for  a 
time  sufficient  for  his  ostensible  purposes,  ap- 
proached the  body,  tore  aside  the  delicate  fab- 
ric, which  covered  the  breast,  and  with  sur- 
prising dexterity  released  the  fastenings  which 
held  the  jacket  to  the  body,  wrenched  it  away 
with  desperate  haste,  and  in  an  incredibly  short 

[230] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

time  had  secured  this  treasure-trove  around  his 
own  loins  beneath  the  folds  of  his  linen. 

"Then,  with  a  grin  of  malignant  triumph,  he 
murmured:  'This  is  more  speedy,  O  prince, 
than  pebbles  for  diamonds — and  now  for  Lai 
Lu.' 

"With  this  the  merchant  darted  to  the  hang- 
ings from  which  the  prince  had  issued  with 
such  desperate  purpose,  cast  them  ruthlessly 
aside,  hurried  along  the  passageway,  shouting 
as  he  speeded:  'Lai  Lu — Lai  Lu!' 

"A  joyful  cry  responded. 

'  'Here,  father,  here!'  and  Lai  Lu,  who  had 
recognized  her  father's  call,  rushed  toward  the 
entrance  just  as  the  merchant  crossed  its 
threshold,  and  in  a  moment  she  was  enfolded 
in  his  protecting  embrace." 

"Is  that  all?"  asked  Raikes  as  the  Sepoy 
paused. 

"Isn't  it  enough?"  laughed  the  narrator. 
"The  villain  punished,  the  righteous  rewarded, 
the  maiden  rescued.  It  seems  to  me  that  all 
the  proprieties  are  preserved." 

"True,"  assented  Raikes.    "You  are  to  be 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

congratulated  upon  your  consistency.  But  as 
usual  your  art  is  a  bit  too  refined.  You  still 
discontinue  with  a  question  unsolved." 

"Name  it,"  replied  the  Sepoy;  "perhaps  I 
can  clear  up  the  difficulty  at  once." 

"Well,"  returned  Raikes,  "there  is  all  that 
wealth  concealed  about  the  person  of  Ram  Lai ; 
I  am  interested  to  know  if  he  retained  it,  to 
what  use  he  put  it.  If  it  is  inconsistent  in  your 
narrative  to  reply  to  these  questions,  waive 
your  formalities  for  once." 

"Why  not?"  laughed  the  Sepoy.  "Still,  I 
can  only  approximate  to  your  request.  There 
was  a  report  that  Ram  Lai  and  his  daughter 
disappeared  shortly  after  the  raid  upon  the 
Kutub. 

"It  is  also  said  that  a  dealer  in  precious 
stones  opened  an  establishment  on  the  Strand 
in  London,  and  that  his  description  correspond- 
ed in  so  many  points  with  that  of  Ram  Lai 
that  it  is  safe  to  infer  that  the  twain  are  iden- 
tical." 

"That  is  better,"  sighed  Raikes.  "I  will  as- 
sume that  the  report  is  correct  since  it  relieves 
my  mind  on  one  point,  at  any  rate.  However, 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

there  is  one  question  more:  Can  you  tell  me 
how  that  substitution  was  made?" 

"Pebbles  for  diamonds?" 

"Yes." 

"To  do  so  requires  another  story,  which  I 
cannot  tell  you  to-night,"  replied  the  Sepoy. 
"How  about  to-morrow  evening?" 

"If  that's  the  only  way?"  queried  Raikes. 

"It  is,"  the  Sepoy  assured  him. 

"I  will  be  here,  then,"  said  Raikes,  "but  I 
must  leave  you  now;  I  will  see  you  at  break- 
fast-time." 

With  this  Raikes  departed  and  made  his 
way  along  the  dim  passages  to  his  room. 

Arrived  at  this  point,  and  taking  his  cus- 
tomary precautions  for  the  night,  Raikes  pre- 
pared to  retire. 

Since  the  process  involved  such  little  atten- 
tion to  detail  in  its  almost  aboriginal  readiness, 
it  was  not  long  before  Raikes  was  tucked  away 
in  his  uneasy  rest. 

Possibly  a  half  hour  later  a  series  of  labored 
snores  announced  his  successful  escape  from 
the  disturbing  realities  of  the  day  and  his  sten- 

[233] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

torian  entrance  upon  more  fictitious  complica- 
tions. 

Just  across  the  hallway,  in  the  room  occu- 
pied by  his  nephew,  conditions  were  more  ani- 
mated, for  Robert,  giving  his  admiring  and 
somewhat  incredulous  attention  to  the  alert 
Gratz,  sat  with  his  eyes  bright  with  the  ac- 
knowledgment of  the  purport  of  the  speaker. 

Just  a  trace  of  excitement  appeared  in  the 
manner  of  the  detective. 

He  had  witnessed  the  return  of  the  sleepy 
Raikes  to  his  room,  and  was  relieved  to  be  able 
to  assure  himself  that  the  miser  was  altogether 
unaware  of  his  presence. 

Gratz  was  about  to  provide  himself  with  the 
confirmation  of  a  theory  which  he  dared  not 
discuss  in  advance. 

The  possibilities  of  failure  were  numerous 
enough  to  provide  him  with  the  element  of 
fascination,  and  its  bizarre  unfamiliarity 
piqued  his  imagination. 

If  he  was  not  mistaken  in  his  calculations,  he 
would  be  in  possession,  before  morning,  of 
some  interesting  data  which  would  make  a 

[234] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

startling  addition  to  the  criminal  records  to 
which  his  past  activities  had  contributed. 

The  suggestion  which  stimulated  him  was 
the  last  which  would  occur  to  a  wholly  sensible 
man  and  the  first  which  would  be  likely  to  pre- 
sent itself  to  a  genius  for  speculation  and 
morbid  analysis. 

Consequently  silence  upon  these  somewhat 
abstruse  reasonings  was  his  safeguard  against 
ridicule  in  the  event  of  failure. 

However,  he  had  intimated  to  Robert  that 
events  would  transpire  during  the  night  which 
would  be  illuminative,  but  he  could  not  be  per- 
suaded to  indicate  to  the  curious  youth  just 
what  to  expect. 

Whatever  was  to  occur,  Robert  was  assured 
that  he  would  witness;  in  fact,  he  would  be  a 
neccessary  feature  to  the  mysterious  plans  of 
the  detective. 

Stimulated,  therefore,  by  these  occult  hints 
and  the  lively  prospect  they  introduced,  the 
young  man  developed  a  clandestine  emotion  of 
weird  anticipation,  which  he  readily  accredited 
to  an  unsuspected  fitness  for  intrigue. 

Gratz,  in  the  meantime,  having  primed  the 

[235] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 


young  enthusiast,  maintained  an  irritating 
silence,  and  when  an  hour  had  passed  in  this 
spiritless  fashion  Robert  was  electrified  by  the 
solitary  word  "Now!"  from  the  lips  of  the 
enigmatical  Gratz. 

Unable  to  comprehend  the  significance  of 
the  subdued  exclamation,  Robert  nevertheless 
followed  the  detective  with  confiding  docility, 
and  the  pair  hastened  down  a  flight  of  stairs 
which  conducted  them  to  the  main  hallway. 

From  this  Gratz  proceeded  to  a  door  direct- 
ly beneath  the  stairway  which  they  had  just 
traversed,  and  which  opened  upon  another 
short  series  of  steps  that  concluded  in  the  cellar. 

Descending  these,  the  two  hastened  along 
the  chill  floor  and  presently  paused  by  the  main 
coal-bin  in  which  the  widow  stored  her  fuel. 

With  an  impressive  injunction  to  silence, 
Gratz  indicated  the  course  which  Robert  was 
expected  to  pursue,  and  in  the  recess  created 
by  a  flight  of  disused  stairs  the  two  secreted 
themselves. 

It  was  pitch  dark. 

Neither  of  the  watchers  could  see  the  other, 
and  communication  was  only  maintained  by 

[236] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

the  reassuring  pressure  of  the  hand  of  the  de- 
tective upon  the  arm  of  the  excited  Robert. 

At  last  the  latter  ventured  to  inquire  in  a 
whisper  what  it  was  that  Gratz  expected  to 
discover. 

"The  solution  of  the  puzzle,"  replied  the 
other  in  the  same  tone. 

"The  thief?"  asked  Robert. 

"No,  the  accessory,"  was  the  reply;  "but  do 
not  ask  any  further  questions;  you  will  be 
treated  to  the  surprise  of  your  life  in  a  little 
while,  unless  I  am  much  mistaken." 

Scarcely  had  the  detective  uttered  these 
words  when  the  faint  click  of  a  door-latch  was 
borne  to  their  ears  from  the  direction  of  the 
stairway  they  had  just  descended. 

The  next  moment  a  dim  ray  of  light  flickered 
into  the  darkness,  and  a  figure  vaguely  shad- 
owed its  grotesque  disproportion  on  the  walls 
just  behind  as  it  crept,  with  cautious  lightness, 
step  by  step  down  the  stairs. 

At  last  it  reached  the  floor  and  moved  in 
the  direction  of  the  bin. 

The  light,  which  was  furnished  by  a  candle, 
was  raised  in  the  air  at  about  the  height  of  a 

[237] 


man's  face,  and  directly  behind  it  a  man's  face 
appeared. 

"Great  heavens!"  whispered  Robert  as  the 
strange  figure  advanced,  "it  is  uncle!" 

"Steady,  now!"  whispered  the  detective; 
"not  a  word  or  you  will  ruin  everything." 

Revealed  by  the  weird  light,  the  miserable 
countenance  of  the  miser  had  never  looked  so 
contemptible. 

The  sputtering  flame  seemed  to  have  the 
power  to  betray  all  the  miserly  emotions  and 
mean  parsimonies  usually  concealed  behind  its 
starved  pallor. 

The  lips  had  fallen  inanely  apart  with  an 
absurd  look  of  silly  wonder. 

The  eyes  were  wide  open  and  stared  directly 
ahead  with  the  most  unnatural  expression  or 
lack  of  it  that  Robert  had  ever  beheld  in  the 
visage  of  mortal  man. 

Even  the  detective,  accustomed  as  he  was  to 
all  sorts  of  uncommon  spectacles,  could  not 
repress  a  slight  disposition  to  shudder. 

One  bony  hand  grasped  the  candlestick,  and 
the  other  held  some  sort  of  round  object,  to 
which  Robert  directed  his  attention. 

[238] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

By  the  sudden  motion  he  made  the  detective 
knew  that  the  young  man  had  discovered  what 
this  object  was,  and  pressed  his  arm  warn- 
ingly. 

It  was  one  of  the  canvas  bags  from  the  re- 
cess in  the  wall. 

Just  before  the  opening  of  the  bin  his  uncle 
paused,  like  a  speculative  phantom,  as  if  to 
consider  its  next  doleful  move. 

His  entire  countenance,  upon  nearer  view, 
like  the  canvas  which  the  painter  has  roughly 
outlined,  was  suggestive  of  anything,  accord- 
ing to  the  fancy  of  the  beholder. 

Upon  this  spiritless  blank  Robert  depicted, 
with  a  morbid  genius  and  the  stimulation  of 
his  unnatural  surroundings,  all  that  was  remi- 
niscent of  his  uncle's  littleness. 

But  this  uneasy  transit  from  the  room  up- 
stairs to  the  bin  below,  the  vacant,  irresponsible 
ensemble,  the  inscrutable  determination  to  ful- 
fill some  strange  obligation,  enforced  by  what 
influence  or  moral  unrest  he  could  not  tell, 
culminated  in  the  mind  of  the  young  man  in 
the  only  possible  explanation: 

[239] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

His  uncle  was  engaged  in  the  unaware,  exe- 
cution of  some  fixed  idea. 

He  was  responding  to  an  uncontrollable, 
secret  impulse,  and  Robert,  guiding  himself  by 
the  touch  of  his  hand  in  order  to  locate  his  lips 
as  close  to  the  ear  of  the  detective  as  he  might, 
whispered  with  conviction: 

"Somnambulist!" 

"No,"  replied  Gratz — "worse;  be  silent." 

Amazed  and  wondering  what  could  possibly 
be  worse,  and  rummaging  through  the  garret 
of  all  his  unusual  experiences,  Robert  could 
find  nothing  to  correspond  to  this  inexplicable 
phenomenon;  and  it  was  with  a  sort  of  super- 
stitious distraction  that  he  beheld  his  uncle 
discard  his  transient  hesitation  and  proceed 
with  ghostly  purpose  to  the  opening  of  the 
bin. 

Advancing,  Raikes  placed  the  candle  upon 
the  bed  of  coals  and  began  to  unfasten  the  cord 
which  secured  the  mouth  of  the  bag  which  he 
carried. 

Robert  had  never  beheld  anything  so  ghastly 
as  his  uncle's  eyes,  intent  but  unseeing;  nor  so 
frightful  as  his  motions,  direct  but  unintelli- 

[240] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

gent,  like  those  of  a  midnight  marionette  con- 
trolled by  invisible  strings. 

In  a  few  moments  his  efforts  were  success- 
ful, and  the  incredulous  Robert  beheld  his 
uncle  invert  his  precious  burden  and  send  a 
clinking,  intrinsic  shower  of  coin  to  the  floor. 

Apparently  this  familiar  sound  had  pene- 
trated in  some  degree  to  his  inner  conscious- 
ness. 

An  expression  of  vague  uneasiness,  of 
troubled  irresolution,  clouded  his  eyes,  but  this 
semi-intellection  and  its  transient  phasis  sub- 
sided to  his  original  apathy  as,  with  a  sigh  of 
helpless  impersonality,  he  began  to  collect, 
writh  a  silly,  childish  selection,  as  if  to  balance, 
by  the  size  of  the  individual  coals,  the  propor- 
tion of  the  discharged  gold,  handfuls  of  these 
dusky  diamonds  and  substitute  the  sordid  heaps 
in  the  bag. 

This  weird  absurdity  concluded,  Raikes,  re- 
possessing himself  of  the  candle,  turned 
wearily  and  retraced  the  path  of  his  ghostly 
journey. 

In  a  little  while  his  shuffling  footfalls  had 
concluded  with  the  doorway  at  the  top  of  the 


cellar  stairs,  the  latch  was  heard  to  click  into 
place,  and  all  was  still. 

"Now,"  whispered  Gratz  with  concentrated 
emphasis,  "not  a  word — not  a  sound  from  this 
moment.  We  have  seen  the  accessory,  now  for 
the  principal." 

In  reply  Robert  pressed  his  hand  upon  the 
arm  of  the  detective  to  indicate  that  his  in- 
structions were  understood  and  would  be 
obeyed,  and  in  a  silence  through  which  he  felt 
that  his  heart-throbs  must  certainly  be  audible, 
the  watchers  awaited  developments. 

The  obscurity  and  silence  which  prevailed, 
and  the  vault-like  chill  and  dampness,  har- 
monized so  fully  with  the  unnatural  spectacle 
which  he  had  just  witnessed,  and  the  grim  ex- 
pectation of  something  untoward  still  to  come, 
that  Robert  was  prepared  to  reconsider  his 
views  of  the  earlier  portion  of  the  evening  as 
to  his  fitness  for  secret  investigation  and  crim- 
inal analysis. 

He  no  longer  felt  the  exultation  of  this  as- 
sociation with  relentless  and  cunning  pursuit, 
and  began  to  wonder  how  any  normal  human 
being  could  adopt  a  profession  which  embraced 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

all  these  cheerless  handicaps  when  there  were 
so  many  occupations  into  which  a  little  sun- 
light and  geniality  penetrated  now  and  then. 

He  had  about  decided  that  such  industry 
was  the  manifestation  of  a  disease,  and  that 
his  silent  companion  was  a  desperate  incurable, 
when  his  diagnosis  was  suddenly  interrupted. 

The  detective  pressed  the  shoulders  of  his 
companion,  communicating  a  slight  impulse  to- 
ward the  opposite  end  of  the  cellar,  and  Robert, 
in  obedience  to  its  intimation,  turned  and  be- 
held an  approaching  light. 

It  had  the  unreal  appearance  of  a  detached 
eye  of  some  malignant  Cyclops,  glancing  in  a 
ghastly,  bodiless  way,  from  object  to  object, 
and  concentrating  itself  at  last  in  a  definite 
course  along  the  floor. 

To  witness  the  approach  of  this  stealthy 
gleam,  without  visible  means  of  support  or 
guidance,  caused  the  young  man's  flesh  to 
creep  and  his  heart  to  throb  almost  to  the  point 
of  suffocation. 

If  it  requires  experience  to  become  a  suc- 
cessful narrator,  Robert  was  certainly  in  a 
way  to  accumulate  a  budget  of  startling  data. 

[243] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

Nothing,  hitherto,  in  his  life  could  explain 
the  marvel,  but  Gratz,  with  trained  certainty, 
knew  that  he  gazed  upon  the  disk  of  a  dark 
lantern  which,  exposing  all  else  to  view,  shield- 
ed, with  its  distracting  flash,  the  object  of  this 
midnight  quest. 

With  an  assurance  that  indicated  a  definite 
purpose,  the  figure  at  last  stood  within  the 
door  of  the  coal  bin. 

At  once  the  searching  gleam  began  to  dance 
hither  and  thither  upon  the  floor,  and  finally, 
with  unerring  pause,  fell  directly  upon  the 
heap  of  glittering  coin. 

"Ah!"  exclaimed  a  voice. 

In  its  concentrated  emphasis  there  was  the 
unmistakable  accent  of  certitude,  of  expecta- 
tion gratified. 

The  next  instant  the  light  was  placed  upon 
the  floor  with  a  tilt  that  sent  its  rays  upon  the 
treasure,  and  the  unknown  began  to  collect 
the  gold  with  oblivious  haste  and  bestow  it  in 
some  receptacle  near-by. 

Suddenly  Robert  felt  his  companion  move 
forward  noiselessly,  at  the  same  time  he  recog- 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

nized  the  intimation  of  a  detaining  hand;  and 
then  he  stood  alone. 

Scarcely  had  he  adjusted  himself  to  these 
startling  conditions  when  he  heard  a  sharp, 
metallic  snap,  and  beheld  a  sudden  flood  of 
light  directed  upon  the  kneeling  figure. 

There  was  a  cry  of  desperate  amazement,  the 
quick  clink  of  scattering  coin,  and  the  next  in- 
stant a  wild,  rage-distorted  face  shot  into  view. 

"My  God '."cried  Robert. 

It  was  the  Sepoy! 

"Hands  up !"  commanded  a  voice  which  the 
young  man  recognized  as  that  of  Gratz ;  "hands 
up,  or  you  are  a  dead  man.  There  are  five 
bullets  in  reserve  for  you  if  you  budge  from 
where  you  stand." 

With  an  imprecation  that  was  charged  with 
malignant  venom,  the  Sepoy  looked  upon  the 
gleaming  barrel  of  a  pistol  which  was  advan- 
cing into  the  light,  recognized  his  helplessness, 
and  with  snarling  obedience  elevated  his  arms 
in  the  air. 

"Robert!"  called  Gratz. 

The  young  man,  trembling,  hurried  to  the 
opening. 

[245] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

"Get  behind  me,"  directed  Gratz;  "put  your 
hand  in  my  coat  pocket;  you'll  find  a  pair 
of  bracelets  there  for  our  friend  here." 

With  shaking  hands  Robert  followed  these 
sharply  delivered  instructions,  and  withdrew  a 
set  of  handcuffs,  gaping  at  the  fastenings  to 
receive  a  pair  of  guilty  wrists. 

"Now  move  around  to  the  rear  of  this  gen- 
tleman," continued  the  relentless  Gratz,  "and 
snap  them  on  his  wrists." 

Somehow  Robert  managed  to  obey  these 
commands. 

He  reached  to  the  uplifted  hands  of  the 
Sepoy,  embraced  his  wrists  with  the  handcuffs, 
and  closed  them  with  a  snap. 

\(Tobe  continued  on  Bosom  No.  2,  Series  C.)] 

Unknown  to  himself,  Dennis,  stimulated  by 
the  lively  succession  of  incidents,  had  spurred 
his  enunciation  in  a  racy  adjustment  to  these 
animated  conditions. 

His  eyes  appeared  to  have  appropriated  the 
sparkle  which  had  intensified  the  glance  of  the 
Sepoy  of  whom  he  had  just  read,  and  when 

[246] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

he  arrived  at  the  familiar  legend  at  the  bottom 
of  the  bosom,  his  expression,  vivid  with  all 
these  communicated  emotions,  was  duplicated 
in  the  sweet,  absorbed  face  of  his  bewitching 
listener,  who,  in  order  the  better  to  follow  his 
rapid  utterance,  leaned,  with  the  exquisite  in- 
toxication of  her  presence,  in  rapt  nearness  to 
the  reader. 

Consequently,  when  Dennis  looked  up  from 
his  reading,  he  was  transported  along  the  high- 
way of  a  sympathetic  glance  into  deeps  of  daz- 
zling blue. 

For  a  moment  he  abandoned  himself  to  the 
enchanting  witchery  with  the  dreamful  enjoy- 
ment of  the  voluptuary  inhaling  the  odors  of 
a  scented  bath. 

He  seemed  to  be  on  the  best  of  terms  with 
some  well-disposed  harlequin. 

Scarcely  had  the  excitement  of  one  series  of 
events  developed  to  its  climax  when  he  was 
whisked  to  another. 

His  providence  was  working  overtime  in  his 
behalf,  and  being  at  heart  sound  and  genuine, 
the  weight  of  his  obligations  to  all  these 
auspices  warned  him  not  to  be  too  prodigal 

[247] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

with  his  privileges ;  so,  with  an  effort,  the  stress 
of  which  communicated  some  of  its  rigors  to 
his  countenance,  he  closed  his  eyes  for  one 
ascetic  moment  and  came  bravely  to  earth 
again. 

Suspecting  something  of  the  nature  of  his 
confusion,  as  a  lovely  woman  will,  and  secretly 
applauding  his  undemonstrative  deference, 
which,  in  the  cynical  atmosphere  to  which  she 
was  habituated,  came  to  her  like  a  refreshing 
zephyr,  the  widow  asked  him  with  an  engaging 
smile  of  encouragement : 

"Of  what  were  you  thinking,  Mr.  Mul- 
doon?" 

"Mr.  Muldoon!"  he  repeated  to  himself  with 
an  endeavor  to  reflect  the  intonation  of  per- 
sonal distinction  which  issued  so  entrancingly 
from  the  Cupid's  bow  of  a  mouth.  He  had 
not  been  so  ceremoniously  addressed  since  he 
knew  not  when,  and  never  realized  that  his 
homely  name  had  such  music  in  it.  "Oh!"  he 
thought,  "if  she  would  only  say  'Dennis/  it 
would  be  like  grand  opera." 

"Why,"  replied  Dennis  with  simple  frank- 
ness. "I  was  thinking,  for  one  thing — for  one 

I  248  ] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

thing" — but  encouraged  by  her  smiling  invi- 
tation he  stammered — "how  beautiful  you 
are!"  and  added  to  himself,  or  it  looked  as 
though  he  might  express  his  sentiments  that 
way:  "There,  you've  done  it!" 

"Ah!"  exclaimed  his  companion,  with  a  rosy 
enjoyment  of  this  unstudied  situation  and 
frank  appreciation,  "and  what  was  the  other?" 

"I  don't  know  how  to  tell  you  the  other," 
answered  Dennis.  Then  with  an  unreflective 
inspiration :  "Did  you  ever  read  about  Launce- 
lot  and  Guinevere?" 

"Ye-yes,"  was  the  apprehensive  answer. 

"Well,"  continued  Dennis  with  a  naive  re- 
membrance only  of  the  chivalry  of  this  idyllic 
indiscretion,  "when  I  look  at  you  I  can  under- 
stand how  a  knight  could  battle  for  a  queen." 

There  was  silence  for  a  moment,  but  in  the 
interval  the  lady  did  not  laugh,  though  her 
eyes  were  bright  as  she  said : 

"You  are  a  strange  boy." 

"Oh!"  cried  Dennis,  "tell  me,  have  I  of- 
fended? I  would  not  do  that  for  the  world." 

"I  am  sure  of  that,"  replied  the  widow,  "and 
I  believe  that  you  mean  what  you  say." 

[249] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

"Oh,  I  do,  I  do!"  exclaimed  Dennis  impuls- 
ively; then,  with  a  realization  of  the  thin  sur- 
face over  which  he  was  making  such  rapid 
strides  despite  the  danger  signals  of  conven- 
tionality, and  with  a  diplomacy  born  of  his 
native  good  sense,  he  glided,  with  cheerful 
Celtic  sagacity,  to  safer  footing  by  asking 
abruptly:  "May  I  recommend  myself" — as  if 
he  had  not  already  done  so — "for  the  position 
you  offer?" 

"Ah !"  exclaimed  the  widow,  from  whom  no 
alternation  of  his  mobile  countenance  seemed 
to  escape,  "it  is  your  turn  now;  I  must  not 
receive  all  the  honors." 

"Well,"  replied  Dennis,  altogether  aware 
of  the  graceful  courtesy  of  this  exquisite 
woman,  and  constituted  by  nature,  if  not  by 
past  association,  to  accord  it  due  appreciation, 
"well,  there  isn't  much  to  say,  but  here's  my 
outfit : 

"I  am  sorry  to  have  to  begin  badly.  I  don't 
know  anything  about  flowers.  I  can't  tell  you, 
even,  the  difference  between  a  shamrock  and  a 
clover." 

[250] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

"All  that  can  be  easily  remedied,"  his  lis- 
tener reassured  him;  "but  proceed." 

"But  there's  one  thing  I'm  sure  about,"  con- 
tinued Dennis.  "You  can  rely  upon  me,  an' 
that's  better." 

"It  is,  indeed,"  answered  the  widow. 

"I  am  anxious  to  do  the  best  I  can  for  my- 
self," resumed  Dennis.  "I  have  just  one  way 
of  doing  it,  and  that  is  to  do  the  best  I  can  for 
others." 

"That  is  real  business  principle,"  exclaimed 
his  companion,  "and  very  rare.  What  else?" 

"I  guess  that's  about  all,"  answered  Dennis, 
"an*  it  don't  sound  so  very  much,  does  it?" 

"More  than  you  think,"  answered  the  widow. 
"Now  listen  to  me: 

"I  need  such  service  as  I  hope  from  you 
very  much.  Would  you  like  to  come  and  help 
me  here?" 

"Oh!"  cried  Dennis. 

"I  am  answered,"  responded  his  companion. 
"When  can  you  come?" 

"At  once!"  cried  Dennis — "or  no,  wait  a  bit; 
that  wouldn't  be  fair  to  my  present  employer. 
But  I  can  tell  him  to  look  out  for  somebody 

[251] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

else  right  away;  surely  he  can  fill  my  place 
within  a  week.  Suppose  I  say  next  Monday?" 

"Very  well,  that  will  suit,"  answered  the 
widow;  "but  you  have  not  asked  me  what  your 
salary  will  be." 

Dennis  blushed,  and  his  blush  was  appre- 
ciated. To  enjoy  the  genial  inspiration  of 
such  an  association  would  be  a  perquisite  which, 
other  things  being  only  approximately  even, 
would  repair  any  possible  shortage. 

"Will  twenty  dollars  a  week  and  your  board 
satisfy  you  for  the  present?" 

Dennis  held  his  breath  and  pictured  the  con- 
trast. 

His  present  employment  brought  him  just 
ten  dollars  and  the  association  of  a  barkeeper — » 
would  it  satisfy  him?  However,  he  managed 
to  say,  without  too  great  a  show  of  emotion: 
"It  is  more  than  I  expected." 

"Well,  then,  that  point  is  settled,"  said  the 
widow  with  a  brisk  business  air,  which  pro- 
vided such  a  sharp  contrast  to  her  delightful 
womanly  qualities  and  caused  Dennis  to  won- 
der at  the  graceful  alternation  of  the  one  with 
the  other.  "Now  as  to  board:  In  the  rear  of 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

the  conservatory  is  a  suite  of  rooms  as  cozy 
as  any  young  man  could  wish.  At  the  end  of 
the  week  I  expect  to  have  them  vacated. 

"They  are  occupied  just  now  by  the  mana- 
ger, but  he  has  already  been  notified  through 
my  attorney,  and  all  will  be  in  readiness  for 
you  by  next  Monday. 

"It  has  been  somewhat  difficult  to  make  him 
comprehend  my  purpose ;  it  is  so  different  from 
what  he  expected.  He  is  incautious  enough  to 
demand  a  reason." 

"There  is  one,"  ventured  Dennis  boldly,  "if 
I  may  venture  to  suggest  it." 

"Surely!"  replied  the  widow,  remarking 
Dennis  curiously. 

"Well,"  replied  the  young  man  as  he  re- 
called the  astonishing  array  of  details  sur- 
rounding the  death  of  the  aesthetic  proprietor, 
"just  enclose  him  a  note  with  two  words  in  it." 

"And  those?"  queried  the  widow  as  Dennis 
paused. 

"Cape  Jessamine." 

For  a  space  Dennis  feared  that  he  had  of- 
fended. A  shade  of  depression  darkened  the 
lovely  feature*  before  him,  but  his  companion 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

looked  into  his  apprehensive  eyes  reassuringly 
as  she  said:  "You  have  penetration." 

His  momentary  embarrassment,  however,  in- 
troduced another  perturbation,  for  in  glancing 
away  for  an  instant  to  reassemble  himself,  so 
to  speak,  his  eyes  fell  upon  the  clock,  which  at 
that  very  moment  chimed  the  hour  of  eleven. 

This  was  startling! 

Dennis  was  familiar  enough  with  social 
usage,  or,  at  least,  had  the  practical  goodisense 
to  realize  that  he  had  exceeded  the  limits  of 
good  taste  by  an  hour,  and  began  to  make  dis- 
concerted preparations  for  departure. 

Perceiving  his  embarrassment,  his  compan- 
ion relieved  him  with  genial  tact  by  asking: 
"And  what  about  bosom  No.  2?  I  want  to 
hear  the  rest  of  that  story." 

"Ah!"  exclaimed  Dennis,  brightening, 
"when  shall  it  be?" 

"How  will  Wednesday  evening  suit?"  sug- 
gested the  widow. 

And  Dennis,  with  a  mien  which  plainly  in- 
dicated that  he  considered  the  time  represented 
in  the  space  that  must  elapse  between  the  de- 
lightful present  and  the  evening  appointed  em- 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

bodied  his  views  of  a  brief  eternity,  assured  the 
widow  that  he  would  be  on  hand,  and  added: 
"I  will  not  read  a  line  until  then." 

"Leave  the  story  here,  then,  and  I  will  put 
it  away  until  you  make  your  appearance.  I 
promise,  too,  that  I  will  not  read  it  in  the  mean- 
time," and  the  widow  received  the  remaining 
bosoms  from  Dennis  with  an  extravagant  show 
of  gravity,  which  caused  them  both  to  laugh, 
in  view  of  its  absurd  occasion,  as  she  bestowed 
them  in  a  music  rack  and  turned  to  conduct 
him  to  the  entrance. 

"Good-by!"  she  said,  and  once  more  extend- 
ed her  hand,  which  Dennis  received  with  an 
unmistakable  indication  of  his  appreciation  of 
the  exceptional  favor. 

"Good-by!"  he  responded  as  he  prepared  to 
descend  the  steps,  "good-by!"  and  added  to 
himself,  with  a  fervor  which  conveyed  some 
intimation  of  his  sentiments  if  it  did  not  sug- 
gest his  words : 

"An'  may  the  saints  preserve  you!" 


[255]] 


CHAPTER  IX 

WHEN  Dennis  retired  for  the  night  at  The 
Stag,  his  transit  from  his  room,  which  had 
never  seemed  so  contracted  as  now,  to  the  Land 
of  Nod  was  somewhat  delayed  by  reason  of  the 
exhilarating  conditions  through  which  he  had 
just  passed. 

Toward  midnight,  however,  his  pulse  had 
resumed  its  normal,  and  the  young  man, 
reaching  his  drowsy  destination  at  last,  began 
a  series  of  the  most  surprising  horticultural 
experiments  until,  what  with  orchids  as  big 
as  a  barrel,  and  geraniums  which  could  be 
reached  only  by  a  ladder,  he  had  converted  the 
silvery  strand  of  the  dreamful  domain  into  a 
forest  of  atrocious  color  and  floral  monstrosity. 

Awakening  on  the  succeeding  morning, 
Dennis,  accepting  the  sense  of  general  lassi- 
tude which  oppressed  him  as  an  indication  of 

[256] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

the  arduous  nature  of  his  efforts  in  his  dreams, 
began  to  prepare  for  the  activities  of  the  day. 

On  this  occasion  he  was  compelled  to  attire 
himself  in  the  shirt  which  he  had  worn  on  the 
occasion  of  his  visit  the  evening  before,  since 
his  remaining  bosoms,  along  with  his  heart, 
were  in  the  possession  of  the  beautiful  widow. 

But  the  extravagance  of  such  indulgence  did 
not  alarm  him  now. 

Under  the  circumstances,  what  did  a  shirt 
more  or  less  matter? 

Was  he  not  about  to  be  admitted  into  para- 
dise and  receive  twenty  dollars  per  week  be- 
sides ? 

"Shirt,  ha!"  he  exclaimed  with  a  touch  of 
Celtic  wit;  "it's  a  robe  of  white  I  want."  How- 
ever, he  compromised  on  a  new  necktie,  and 
almost  ventured  the  length  of  patent  leathers. 

Stimulated  by  the  prospect  of  all  this  beati- 
tude, Dennis  proceeded  to  the  dining-room  and 
revived  the  spirit  of  the  discouraged  waiter  by 
ordering  a  liberal  breakfast. 

At  the  conclusion  of  the  meal  he  further  cele- 
brated his  disposition  to  mortgage  providence 
by  the  bestowal  of  a  gratuity  moderate  enough 

[257] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

to  renew  the  waiter's  original  unflattering  esti- 
mation. 

Had  his  father  witnessed  this  imprudence  he 
would  have  been  prepared  to  believe  that 
Dennis  was  under  the  influence  of  a  danseuse, 
and  the  proportions  of  the  breakfast  could  only 
have  indicated  a  determination  to  commit 
suicide  by  repletion. 

On  his  way  to  the  street  Dennis  paused  to 
inform  the  barman  of  his  intended  departure. 

As  an  indication  of  his  sentiments  at  this 
announcement,  the  barman,  who  was  engaged 
in  the  mixture  of  a  mysterious  decoction,  said, 
as  he  poured  an  amber-colored  fluid  into  the 
glass:  "This  wan  is  fur  grief  at  the  goin',  an' 
this  wan" — pouring  from  another  bottle — "is 
fur  good  luck  when  ye  git  there,"  and  he 
pushed  the  mixture  toward  Dennis. 

But  the  young  Irishman,  remembering  his 
recent  experience,  declined  with  thanks. 

"No?"  queried  the  barman.  "Well,  an' 
that's  not  a  bad  idea  at  all.  It's  the  right 
sthart  fur  a  bad  day  an'  a  bad  sthart  fur  a 
right  wan.  'Tis  th'  divil's  own  way  av  showin' 
wan's  sintimints."  Then,  reaching  for  the 

[258] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

glass,  he  added:  "I'll  do  th'  honors  fur  th' 
two  av  us";  and  with  the  singular  tendency, 
so  often  noted  under  such  circumstances,  to 
swallow  with  haste  that  which  it  required  such 
trouble  to  prepare,  the  barman  bolted  the  con- 
tents of  the  glass  and  looked  his  appreciation 
through  moist  eyes. 

As  Dennis  neared  the  establishment  of  his 
employer,  he  recalled  his  obligation. 

He  must  begin  the  day  by  informing  the 
foreman  of  his  changed  intentions. 

He  disliked  the  idea  of  the  possible  friction 
involved  in  the  performance  of  this  disagree- 
able duty,  but  there  seemed  to  be  no  other  way 
out  of  the  dilemma. 

His  announcement,  however,  was  to  be  less 
embarrassing  than  he  anticipated. 

His  providence  was  about  to  take  a  short 
nap. 

As  he  approached  the  foreman,  he  discov- 
ered that  individual,  several  degrees  less  breezy 
than  usual,  engaged  in  an  animated  conversa- 
tion with  a  young  man  whose  prevailing  ex- 
pression was  so  penitential  that  Dennis,  with 

[259] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

prompt  Celtic  intuition,  decided  that  he  was 
gazing  upon  his  predecessor  in  office. 

He  was  assured  of  this  by  the  glance  of 
belligerent  appraisement  with  which  the  young 
fellow  surveyed  him  from  head  to  foot,  in  re- 
sponse to  some  suggestive  indication  from  the 
foreman. 

He  seemed,  to  the  apprehensive  eyes  of 
Dennis,  to  be  calculating  his  chances  in  the 
event  of  a  physical  contest. 

And  this  recalled  what  the  foreman  had  said 
about  his  biceps. 

"You  want  to  see  me?"  queried  the  latter 
with  an  expression  in  which  the  sunshine 
seemed  overdue. 

"Yes,"  answered  Dennis  as  his  employer 
stepped  aside  to  hear  what  he  had  to  say. 

As  Dennis  proceeded  the  look  of  perplexity 
which  he  had  noted  upon  the  face  of  his  lis- 
tener seemed  to  give  way  to  one  of  unmis- 
takable relief,  and  when  Dennis  had  stated  his 
case  he  exclaimed:  "Shure,  now,  it's  an  aisy 
way  out  av  a  bad  muss,  so  it  is.  Here,  Phil!" 
he  shouted,  turning  to  the  young  fellow  in 
the  background,  who  had  witnessed  this  brief 

[  260  ] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

interview  with  scowling  interest,  "here,  you 
two  can  t'row  th'  gloves  down  an'  shake ;  Mul- 
doon  here  wants  to  hand  yure  job  back  to  ye." 

At  this  announcement,  the  disfavor  in  the 
countenance  of  the  other  disappeared  and  was 
replaced  by  an  expression  which  indicated  that 
he  regarded  such  liberality  as  something  in 
the  nature  of  a  freak. 

Some  evidences  of  his  debauch  still  clung  to 
him. 

His  eyes  were  moist  and  heavy-lidded;  his 
lips  dry  and  tremulous,  and  the  hand  which  he 
extended  to  Dennis  shook  somewhat. 

"Come,  now!"  exclaimed  the  foreman,  "that's 
well  over";  and  addressing  the  one  he  called 
Phil  he  added:  "Now  get  to  work." 

Dennis  looked  his  astonishment. 

He  had  not  calculated  upon  such  a  prompt 
acceptance  of  his  resignation.  He  felt  that 
he  presented  an  absurd  appearance,  and  that 
the  foreman  did  not  appear  to  his  usual  bluff 
advantage. 

"Come  this  way,"  said  the  latter  to  Dennis, 
who  followed  him  into  his  office  with  a  strange 
sinking  at  heart. 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

"I  did  not  mean  to  hand  over  everything 
right  off!'*  exclaimed  Dennis. 

"Well,"  replied  the  foreman,  "Phil's  wife 
came  here  early  this  mornin'  an'  put  up  a  few 
tears,  an'  Phil  made  all  sorts  av  promises;  an' 
you  have  no  children  an'  he  has,  an — oh,  the 
divil!"  cried  the  foreman,  weary  of  the  series 
of  explanations  in  which  he  was  getting  in- 
volved. "I  can't  kape  th'  two  av  ye,  an'  Phil 
there  is  an  ould  hand  at  th'  paint-pot." 

"Then,"  cried  Dennis,  "you  mean  that  I 
must  leave  at  once?" 

"That's  about  th'  size  of  it." 

"Why,"  exclaimed  Dennis,  indignant  at  this 
injustice,  "I  tried  to  be  fair  with  you,  and  you 
haven't- 

"Here,"  interrupted  the  foreman,  in  evident 
haste  to  conclude  a  disagreeable  interview; 
"there's  no  use  talking  about  it,  it's  got  to  be 
done";  and  turning  to  a  drawer  in  the  desk 
he  extracted  Monday's  pay  and  placed  it  in 
the  young  man's  hand. 

At  that  moment  a  burly  porter  filled  up  the 
doorway. 

"What  is  it?"  asked  the  foreman,  glad  of 

[  262  ] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

the  interruption,  as  he  hastened,  with  unneces- 
sary and  suspicious  promptness,  to  attend  to 
the  wants  of  the  intruder. 

In  a  little  while  Dennis  realized  that  he 
waited  in  vain  for  the  return  of  the  foreman, 
and  that,  in  so  far  as  he  was  concerned,  he  was 
out  of  a  job. 

Dennis  had  been,  at  various  times  in  his  life, 
subjected  to  some  rugged  experiences,  but 
could  not  recall  any  treatment  quite  so  heart- 
less as  this. 

It  upset  all  his  calculations. 

He  must  exist  somehow  between  the  un- 
happy realities  of  the  present  and  the  blissful 
expectations  of  the  approaching  Monday. 

He  recalled,  with  the  self-accusation  of  a 
repentant  prodigal,  his  needlessly  elaborate 
breakfast,  the  extravagance  of  the  necktie. 

His  return  led  him  past  the  cheap  amuse- 
ment district  of  the  Bowery. 

Never  had  their  tawdry  invitations  seemed 

so  alluring. 

By  that  singular  perversity  which  opens  up 
every  suggestion  of  riotous  expenditure  to  des- 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

titution,  the  poor  fellow  felt  inclined  to  in- 
dulge himself  regardless. 

An  obese  nymph  pictured  in  the  foam  of  a 
beer  sign,  apparently  elaborated  with  a  white- 
wash brush  and  finished  in  the  throes  of  an 
epileptic  fit,  solicited  a  share  of  his  patronage. 

Long  rows  of  slot  machines  offered  all  sorts 
of  libidinous  suggestions  in  placards,  which 
proposed  to  debauch  his  morals  for  a  penny  a 
sight. 

And  with  absurd  propriety  a  vender  of 
shoddy  jewels  presented  the  chance  of  his  life- 
time in  bizarre  decoration. 

But  somehow  Dennis  reached  Broadway  at 
last,  and  faced  the  unpleasant  prospect  of  the 
next  few  days  with  despairing  calculation. 

As  Dennis  looked  up  and  down  this  busy 
thoroughfare,  with  its  thousands  speeding  op- 
positely in  preoccupied  interest,  as  if  all  that 
was  vital  and  worthy  was  to  be  found  at  either 
extreme  of  its  splendid  distances,  he  paused  for 
a  moment  to  account  his  meager  finances. 

He  found  that  he  possessed  just  four  one- 
dollar  bills  and  about  eighty  cents  in  small 
change. 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

Since  he  was  compelled  to  pay  a  half  dollar 
each  night  in  advance  for  his  lodgings,  a  little 
over  two  dollars  would  remain  to  him. 

With  rigid  economy  and  almost  miserly  ab- 
stemiousness this  sum  would  suffice  for  his 
meals,  unless  he  developed  a  mania  for  Del- 
monico's,  and  for  his  carfare,  provided  he  did 
not  venture  outside  the  possibilities  of  the 
elevated. 

As  he  was  about  to  return  his  resources  to 
his  pocket  there  was  a  rattle  and  clamor  up  the 
street,  and  looking  in  that  direction  he  beheld 
a  glittering  engine,  drawn  by  a  splendid  team 
of  white  horses,  speed  along  with  plunging 
dash  and  portent  rumble. 

Along  the  sidewalk  directly  in  his  rear  the 
usual  mob  of  men  and  boys  who  have  nothing 
more  to  do  apparently  than  to  attend  fires  and 
scramble  with  a  morbid  curiosity  to  behold  the 
misery  of  some  victim  of  accident,  ran  in 
scuffling  uproar. 

With  a  pathetic  realization  of  his  own  idle- 
ness, Dennis  turned  to  join  the  speeding 
throng,  when  suddenly  he  became  aware  of  a 
desperate  clutch  at  his  hand,  heard  the  rattle 

[265] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

of  scattering  change  at  his  feet,  and  felt  the 
bills  which  he  held  slip  away  from  his  grasp 
and  disappear  in  the  rush. 

It  was  over  in  a  second.  Apparently  no  one 
noticed  him  or  his  loss.  He  was  as  abandoned 
as  the  unfortunate  marooned  by  rushing 
waters ;  as  unheeded  as  a  lame  lamb  in  the  mul- 
titude of  the  flock. 

Not  a  head  turned,  and  by  the  time  he 
realized  precisely  what  had  happened  and 
prepared  to  give  chase  to  the  thief,  a  score 
of  other  men  and  boys  formed  an  unconscious 
barricade  between  the  unfortunate  boy  and  the 
rogue. 

His  suddenly  created  interest  in  the  fire  van- 
ished and  was  replaced  by  the  despair  of  his 
own  disaster. 

The  nap  of  his  providence  was  developing 
into  a  sound  slumber,  and  since  this  deity  never 
gets  up  before  noon  Dennis  had  still  two  hours 
of  despair  before  him. 

And  what  despair! 

Of  his  pitiful  hoard  of  a  few  moments  since 
only  a  few  dimes  and  nickels  remained. 

[266] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

And  just  across  the  street  was  the  Third 
National  Bank  with  barrels  of  them. 

The  whimsies  of  the  contrast  almost  amused 
him;  but  there  was  not  enough  of  the  Tapley 
about  him  to  detect  its  humor. 

Again  he  counted  his  resources. 

Fifty-eight  cents! 

He  could  lodge  to-night,  at  any  rate,  and 
dine  on  one  of  those  sidewalk  pretzels. 

"The  darkest  hour  is  just  before  the  dawn." 
Dennis  tried  to  cheer  himself  with  this  re- 
flection, but  the  only  dawn  upon  which  he  could 
calculate  was  five  days  off. 

In  vain  the  poor  fellow  adjured  his  brains 
for  some  homely  suggestion,  some  meager 
inspiration. 

Nothing  responded  but  his  destitution,  like 
the  echo  of  a  groan ;  and  through  such  mental 
straits  he  arrived,  at  last,  at  The  Stag. 

He  decided  that  he  would  do  nothing  radical 
until  the  following  day. 

He  could  afford  a  night's  rest,  at  least,  and 
that  might  revive  his  numbed  faculties. 

As  he  reached  the  office  he  glanced  at  the 
proprietor. 

[267] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

Could  he  persuade  that  cynical-visaged  indi- 
vidual to  trust  him  until  he  received  his  first 
week's  pay? 

Would  he  be  credited  if  he  related  his  pros- 
pects? 

As  a  measure  in  this  assurance,  would  not 
the  proprietor  feel  justified  in  calling  upon  the 
widow  for  indorsement  of  the  statement  of  the 
young  man? 

This  would  never  do. 

He  could  not  endure  the  humiliation  of  such 
a  revelation. 

The  poor  fellow  got  little  encouragement 
from  the  face  of  the  proprietor. 

This  was  suspicious  and  hard.  It  had  scarce- 
ly the  perfunctory  smile  of  the  professional 
boniface. 

The  prospect  of  having  to  address  that  for- 
bidding ensemble  was  disheartening. 

Suddenly  his  reflections  were  interrupted. 

The  proprietor  waved  a  beckoning  hand  to 
him. 

Dennis  hurried  to  the  desk. 

"A  letter  for  you,"  said  the  proprietor,  as 
he  placed  in  the  young  man's  hand  an  envelope 

[268] 


addressed  in  a  handwriting  which  he  recog- 
nized at  once. 

"  'Dennis  Muldoon';  yes,  that's  mine,"  and 
hastening  to  an  unoccupied  seat  in  a  remote 
portion  of  the  office,  Dennis  hastily  opened  the 
envelope  and  withdrew  a  short  letter,  and — ye 
gods!  was  it  possible? — a  postal  order  for 
twenty-five  dollars. 

Philadelphia. 

DEAR  DENNIS  : 

It's  a  hard  row  you  have  to  hoe,  I'm  a-think- 
in',  and  it's  a  bad  spot  you  have  to  hoe  it  in.  I 
know  New  York  of  old,  and  it's  a  lonesome 
place  for  a  poor  lad. 

I  send  you  the  week's  wages  due  you,  and  an 
extry  five  to  come  back  with  in  case  your 
dreams  don't  come  true. 

I've  got  over  my  mad,  my  boy,  and  I'll  be 
glad  to  see  you. 

Run  over  annyhow;  it's  a  dull  place  without 
you.  The  mother  misses  you  bad. 

Come  Saturday  if  you  can;  I've  got  a  busi- 
ness proposition  I  want  to  make. 

Tell  me  how  you're  getting  on,  annyway. 

THE  OLD  MAN. 

[269] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

"Oh,  ho !"  cried  Dennis.  His  providence  was 
wide  awake  now,  had  made  its  toilet,  and  was 
ready  for  business. 

For  a  long  while  Dennis  sat  with  the  letter 
in  his  hand,  gazing,  with  unseeing  eyes,  upon 
its  eccentric  chirography. 

His  exultation  had  not  fully  materialized. 

To  grope  in  the  valley  of  despair  one  mo- 
ment and  skip  along  the  summit  of  beatitude 
the  next  was  a  little  too  much  for  immediate 
comprehension. 

Somewhat  in  the  manner  of  the  metaphysi- 
cian, he  was  inclined  to  believe,  since  his  mis- 
fortune was  no  longer  a  reality,  that  his  pros- 
perity might  be  equally  immaterial,  and  in  un- 
aware corroboration  he  made  a  minute  tear  in 
the  edge  of  the  postal  order  to  establish  its 
tangibility. 

In  the  evening,  influenced  perhaps  by  his 
comparative  weal,  Dennis  decided  that  he 
would  purchase  a  ticket  to  the  Olympus,  and 
climbing  the  rear  approach  to  that  elevation, 
found  himself  seated  shortly  with  the  gallery] 
gods,  viewing  with  uncritical  contrasts  the  rela- 

1270] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

tive  merits  of  the  clown,  the  harlequin  and  the 
columbine. 

Between  the  acts  his  roving  glance  found  a 
sudden  destination  and  his  elation  went  into 
abrupt  decline,  for  seated  in  one  of  the  boxes, 
her  glass  surveying  the  house  in  all  sorts  of  dis- 
concerting directions,  sat  the  beautiful  widow. 

Instinctively  Dennis  crouched  into  his  seat. 

Fortunately  he  was  able  by  thus  collapsing 
within  himself,  to  escape  the  radius  of  her 
vision,  which  was  interrupted  by  the  railing 
extending  around  the  balcony. 

It  would  never  do  to  be  discovered  in  his 
present  situation.  The  elevation  was  degrad- 
ing, and  Dennis  understood  the  unhappy  para- 
dox. 

It  emphasized  the  social  distinctions  too 
much,  and  caused  the  distance  from  where  he 
sat  to  the  placid  beauty  below  to  appear  im- 
measurable. 

But  this  was  not  the  least  of  his  perturba- 
tions. 

Near  the  widow  a  gentleman  sat,  solicitous, 

engaging,  persistent. 

[  271  ] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

A  certain  air  of  distinction  rendered  doubly 
obnoxious  the  assumption  of  proprietorship 
which  Dennis  believed  he  remarked,  and  while 
the  young  man  was  able  to  comfort  himself 
with  the  discovery  that  his  bewitching  compan- 
ion devoted  more  attention  to  the  stage  and 
the  house  than  to  her  escort,  still,  as  Dennis 
contemplated  the  faultless  attire  of  the  gentle- 
man in  the  box  and  contrasted  it  with  his  own 
modest  apparel,  he  felt  unaccountably  de- 
pressed. 

All  this  was  revealed  by  the  furtive  glances 
which  the  young  Irishman  ventured  over  the 
gallery  rail. 

A  strange  foreboding  overwhelmed  him. 

The  bewildering  tinsel  of  the  stage  no  longer 
diverted,  and  he  would  have  been  astonished 
to  analyze  the  reason  why. 

As  the  last  curtain  fell  and  Dennis  was  no 
longer  able  to  adjust  his  gloomy  contempla- 
tion to  incongruous  orchestration,  he  hastened 
from  the  theater,  scrambled  down  the  precipi- 
tate stairs  and  hastened  to  The  Stag. 

It  was  midnight  before  he  slept,  and  scarcely 
morning  when  he  awoke. 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

He  dressed  himself  like  an  automaton,  and 
breakfasted  like  an  anchorite. 

He  left  the  hotel  without  his  personal  knowl- 
edge, and  traversed  half  the  length  of  Broad- 
way without  volition.  His  mind  was  making 
the  visit  in  advance  of  the  appointed  time,  and 
his  torpid  body  alone  observed  the  social 
usages. 

By  noon  the  patent  leathers  were  a  reality; 
by  six-thirty  he  had  assumed  a  clean  shirt  and 
his  new  necktie. 

When  the  clock  struck  seven  he  hastened  to 
the  elevated ;  a  half  hour  later  found  him  parad- 
ing the  street  opposite  the  conservatory,  and 
at  eight  he  arrived  with  a  promptness  which, 
persistently  observed,  commends  a  young  man 
to  a  junior  partnership. 

When  the  widow  finally  presented  herself, 
Dennis  was  more  than  ever  convinced,  by  the 
richness  of  her  attire,  that  the  business  must 
be  in  a  flourishing  condition. 

For  some  unknown  reason  the  beautiful 
woman  was  dressed  entirely  in  black  with  the 
exception  of  some  exquisite  traceries  in  white 
about  her  throat  and  wrists. 

[273] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

Had  his  life  depended  upon  it  Dennis  could 
never  have  described  the  fabric  of  her  gown. 

He  only  knew  that  it  was  distinguished  by  a 
sort  of  subdued  sheen;  that  it  rustled  with  an 
entrancing  swish  and  suggestion  of  femininity 
as  she  moved,  and  that  it  was  adjusted  to  her 
shapely  figure  as  though  her  delightful  per- 
sonality had  been  moulded  into  it. 

A  slim  wonder  of  a  white  hand  was  extended 
to  him,  a  bright  smile  illumed  her  bewilder- 
ing eyes  and  bent  the  Cupid  bow  of  her  lips 
into  a  curve  which  sent  an  intangible  arrow 
into  the  young  man's  heart  as  she  said  with 
musical  simplicity: 

"I  am  glad  to  see  you." 

To  this  Dennis  made  no  direct  reply. 

His  eyes  gleamed  their  idealized  eloquence, 
however;  his  attitude  presented  unmistakable 
shades  of  deference,  and  to  save  himself  fur- 
ther revelation  he  collapsed  into  the  chair  in- 
dicated by  his  hostess. 

Apparently  the  widow  extracted  the  same 
enjoyment  from  these  ingenuous  acknowledg- 
ments as  ever,  for  she  did  not  immediately  re- 
sume the  conversation. 

[  274  ] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

Fortunately,  Dennis  assembled  himself,  so  to 
speak,  and  realized  his  psychological  moment. 

"Shure,"  he  said  as  he  became  aware  of  his 
involuntary  self-revelations,  'shure,  an'  you 
would  know  that  I  am  glad  to  see  you  if  I  was 
deaf  and  dumb." 

The  widow  laughed  heartily  at  this,  as  she 
replied : 

"I'm  afraid  that  you  have  kissed  the  blarney 
stone,  Mr.  Muldoon." 

Having  no  response  for  this,  Dennis  sub- 
stituted :  "I  saw  you  at  the  theater  last  night," 
and  a  palpable  degree  of  joy  left  his  counte- 
nance at  the  announcement. 

"Ah!"  exclaimed  the  widow,  regarding  him 
curiously.  "Where  were  you?" 

"In  th'  lobby,"  replied  Dennis  unblushingly. 

"What  did  you  think  of  the  performance?" 
asked  his  companion  after  a  moment. 

Dennis  looked  her  directly  in  the  eyes  with 
the  light  of  inspiration  in  his  glance  as  he 
said: 

"I  did  not  see  it." 

The  widow  gazed  at  the  young  man  for  one 

[  275 1 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

searching  moment,  reddened  slightly,  and, 
rising,  proceeded  to  the  music  rack,  from  which 
she  extracted  bosoms  Nos.  2  and  3. 

"Suppose  we  read  the  story,"  was  her  reply. 

As  the  widow  extended  the  bosoms  toward 
him,  Dennis  could  not  avoid  the  thought  which 
had  presented  itself  to  him  on  the  day  before, 
that  this  woman  had  not  only  two  bosoms  of 
his  in  her  possession,  but  his  heart  as  well ;  and 
a  certain  degree  of  the  animation  of  this  re- 
flection found  its  way  into  his  eyes. 

"Well,"  inquired  this  observing  woman, 
"what  is  it?" 

Dennis  flushed  as  he  replied:  "I'll  tell  you 
by-and-by,"  and  added:  "Will  you  do  me  a 
great  favor?" 

"What  is  it?"  she  asked. 

"Why,"  answered  Dennis,  "I  would  like  to 
hear  you  read  bosom  No.  2." 

"Why?" 

"Well,"  replied  the  young  man,  with  a  sin- 
cerity that  was  unmistakable,  "I  think  it  would 
sound  like  a  song  then." 

"Very  well,"  she  assented,  "let  me  have  it"; 

[276] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

and  with  a  voice  that  reflected,  to  this  young 
man's  ears,  at  least,  at  one  moment  the  rippling 
of  silver  brooks,  the  trill  of  woodbirds,  the  sigh 
of  zephyrs  scented  with  daffodils,  and  the  next 
the  full,  round  resonance  of  an  animated  day 
in  June,  she  read: 

"Now!"  exclaimed  Gratz  as  the  familiar 
click  assured  him  that  the  handcuffs  were  in 
place,  "now  you  can  lower  your  hands  and 
come  over  here." 

As  the  Sepoy  advanced  into  the  light,  Gratz 
instructed  Robert  to  pick  up  the  remaining 
coins  and  restore  them  to  the  bag. 

During  all  this  time  the  Sepoy  had  not  ut- 
tered a  word,  but  his  fierce  eyes,  which  stared 
with  savage  intentness  in  the  direction  of  the 
disk  of  light,  from  the  rear  of  which  issued 
that  implacable  voice,  were  vital  with  rage  and 
impotent  menace. 

As  he  gazed  thus  with  his  distorted  counte- 
nance concentrated  into  a  look  of  bitter  specu- 
lation in  his  futile  attempt  to  discover  by  whom 
he  was  addressed  in  this  tone  of  insolent  au- 
thority, there  was  something  frightful  in  the 

[277] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

quest  and  uncertainty  of  the  disturbed  fea- 
tures. 

An  unnatural  luster,  partly  the  reflection  of 
his  somber  eyes  and  partly  from  the  tawny  hue 
of  his  saturnine  visage,  added  an  inexpressible 
degree  of  malignant  rancor  to  his  expression. 

His  hands,  which  he  was  compelled  by  the 
manacles  to  hold  directly  in  front  of  him  in  an 
absurd  travesty  of  penitential  clasp,  gripped 
each  other  in  his  consuming  resentment  until 
the  tendons  of  his  wrist  stood  out  with  the 
tense  distinction  of  whipcords. 

While  Robert  was  engaged  in  restoring  the 
coins  to  the  bag,  the  only  sound  came  from 
the  derisive  click  and  fall  of  the  gold-pieces  as 
they  chinked  their  mockery  into  the  ears  of  the 
raging  prisoner. 

As  the  last  coin  joined  its  fellows  a  neigh- 
boring clock  chimed  the  hour  of  two. 

"Good!"  exclaimed  Gratz;  "there  is  time  to 
settle  this  business  before  morning";  and  turn- 
ing to  the  Sepoy  he  added:  "I  will  trouble 
you  to  precede  me  to  your  room." 

There  was  something  unreal  in  the  silence 
which  the  Sepoy;  still  maintained  and  the  en- 

.[2781 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

forced  apathy  with  which  he  proceeded  to  obey 
these  instructions,  and  Robert,  unaccustomed 
to  such  episodes  as  this,  in  which  he  was  a  con- 
tributing factor,  was  more  affected  than  if  he 
had  witnessed  some  violent  demonstration  or 
listened  to  a  raging  vituperation. 

The  transit  of  the  trio  from  the  cellar  to  the 
apartment  of  the  Sepoy  was  effected  without 
attracting  further  regard,  and  the  balance  of 
the  boarders  slept  away  in  snoring  oblivion  and 
provided  another  instance  of  the  frail  partition 
which  separates  the  violent  from  the  placid. 

Arrived  at  the  room  of  their  swarthy  pris- 
oner, Gratz  provided  the  uncomfortable  Robert 
with  the  relief  he  required  by  instructing  him  to 
hasten  to  his  uncle  and  summon  him  to  the 
scene,  and  to  avoid  giving  him  any  of  the  de- 
tails of  what  had  transpired. 

Glad  to  escape  the  depression  of  the  gloomy 
vicinity,  and  the  unabashed  directness  of  the 
Sepoy's  glance,  the  young  man  hurried  away. 

If  the  terrible  concentration  which  the 
Sepoy  resumed,  with  his  luminous  eyes  upon 
the  countenance  of  the  detective,  affected  the 

latter,  there  was  certainly  no  such  evidence. 

j 

[279] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

It  was  as  dull  and  lifeless  as  ever;  the  ele- 
lids  had  fallen  to  their  accustomed  suggestion 
of  ambush,  and  it  seemed  scarcely  possible  that 
the  sharp  directions  of  a  few  moments  since 
could  issue  from  such  flaccid  lips,  and  so  much 
determination  could  dominate  such  an  insignifi- 
cant figure. 

Apparently  exasperated  by  the  undemon- 
stration  of  this  negative  aspect,  the  Sepoy  was 
near  the  limit  of  his  repression. 

The  lines  about  his  lips  relaxed  somewhat, 
the  pupils  of  his  eyes  reduced  their  staring 
diameter,  and  his  head  was  inclined  forward  a 
trifle. 

Gratz  concluded  that  his  companion  had 
decided  to  speak. 

He  was  not  mistaken. 

"Can  I  be  spared  the  humiliation  of  meet- 
ing that  old  dotard  you  have  sent  for?" 

"I  do  not  see  how,"  replied  Gratz. 

"What  do  you  gain  by  it?"  asked  the  Sepoy. 

"I  cannot  tell  that  in  advance;  possibly 
nothing,"  replied  Gratz. 

"That  is  likely,"  replied  the  Sepoy  quietly. 

"We  shall  see,"  exclaimed  the  detective.    "I 

[280] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

am  working  out  a  theory ;  I  need  the  assistance 
of  all  concerned." 

"Look  at  me!"  exclaimed  the  Sepoy  abrupt- 
ly. "I  will  credit  you  with  being  something 
of  a  physiognomist.  Do  you  see  any  evidences 
of  determination  in  my  face?" 

"And  if  I  do?"  queried  Gratz. 

"Only  this,"  was  the  reply:  "No  matter 
what  your  object  may  be,  I  will  oppose  it  with 
all  the  resolution  and  dexterity  at  my  com- 
mand, if  you  conduct  your  inquiries  as  you 
contemplate." 

In  reply  Gratz  offered  an  exasperating 
shrug  of  the  shoulders. 

"There  is  no  mystery  to  be  solved,"  he  said. 
"I  have  no  further  facts  to  discover;  I  know 
that  you  have  managed  to  secure  three  sepa- 
rate bags  of  coin  from  Raikes,  and  I  am  aware 
of  your  process." 

"If  you  know  all  this,"  replied  the  other 
with  curious  calmness,  "why  do  you 

The  question  was  interrupted  by  the  sound 
of  approaching  footsteps. 

"Now!"  exclaimed  Gratz,  as  if  with  sudden 
determination,  "I  will  try  to  grant  your  request 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

in  part.  Retire  into  your  bedchamber,  leave 
the  door  open,  and  listen. 

"I  will  place  Raikes  and  his  nephew  where 
they  cannot  see  you,  but  I  will  sit  here  where 
I  can  note  your  slightest  move." 

The  Sepoy  arose  hastily  and  entered  the 
bedchamber,  seating  himself  according  to  the 
direction  of  the  detective. 

At  that  moment  there  was  a  knock  upon  the 
door. 

In  answer  to  the  salutation  of  the  detective 
Raikes  and  his  nephew  entered. 

Seating  themselves  in  the  chairs  indicated, 
they  awaited  with  intense  curiosity  the  pro- 
ceedings of  this  enigmatical  man. 

Noting  the  alert  questioning  in  the  eyes  of 
the  young  man,  and  the  half -awakened  inquiry 
in  the  sordid  countenance  of  Raikes,  Gratz, 
in  order  to  prevent  the  intrusion  of  any  dis- 
turbing remark  upon  his  present  purpose,  said 
impressively: 

"I  must  ask  you  both  to  listen  without  inter- 
ruption. When  I  want  you  to  speak  I  will 
question  you";  and  fastening  his  strange  eyes 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

upon  the  blinking  Raikes,  he  added:  "Now 
we  will  proceed. 

"You  have  lost  four  bags  of  coin." 

"Three!"  corrected  Raikes,  despite  his  in- 
structions to  silence. 

"Pardon  me,"  continued  Gratz,  "and  please 
do  not  interrupt.  I  said  four — and  here  is  the 
fourth,"  and  he  pointed  to  the  bag  upon  the 
table. 

The  miser's  jaw  dropped  helplessly,  and  he 
stared  at  the  bag  with  a  superstitious  terror. 

"But,"  continued  Gratz,  "what  seems  so  in- 
credible to  you  is  merely  the  logical  outcome 
of  a  cunningly  established  sequence,"  and  the 
speaker  shot  an  incredibly  quick  glance  at  the 
silent  figure  in  the  adjoining  room. 

"Now  attend  me  closely. 

"During  the  last  few  evenings  you  have 
heard  some  very  curious  narratives." 

Raikes  nodded  with  gloomy  corroboration. 

"A  series  of  well-arranged  events  have  intro- 
duced a  startling  episode— the  substitution  of 
pebbles  for  diamonds." 

Again  Raikes  nodded. 

[  283  ] 


THE    FLAW    {IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

>*' 

"At  this  point  in  the  narrative  the  first  in- 
stalment concludes.  Am  I  right?" 

"Yes,"  answered  Raikes. 

"Then,"  continued  Gratz,  "you  went  directly 
to  your  room;  you  retired.  In  the  morning 
you  are  prompted,  with  more  than  your  usual 
eagerness,  to  open  your  private  safe." 

"Right!"  exclaimed  Raikes  in  indorsement 
of  this  relentless  resume. 

"You  find  the  locks  undisturbed;  the  con- 
tents apparently  as  you  left  them  on  retiring. 
Some  difference  in  the  conformity  of  one  of 
the  bags  urges  a  nearer  examination.  You  dis- 
cover that  this  indicates  a  difference  in  the 
contents.  You  grasp  it ;  it  comes  away  in  your 
hands  with  startling  lightness.  You  discharge 
its  deposit  upon  the  table — a  shower  of  coals 
follows." 

"Yes,  yes!"  stammered  Raikes  with  impa- 
tient eagerness. 

"Well,  you  are  convinced,  by  an  examina- 
tion of  the  fastenings  of  the  door,  an  inspec- 
tion of  the  window,  that  no  human  being  could 
have  effected  an  entrance  from  either  direc- 
tion. 

[  284  J 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

"The  next  evening  is  a  repetition  of  the  his- 
tory of  the  night  before. 

"The  strange  Indian  narrative,  another  gem 
to  examine — an  additional  loss  on  the  succeed- 
ing morning." 

Raikes  nodded  savagely. 

"On  the  following  night  the  same  unhappy 
series  of  events  occur,  followed  by  the  loss  of 
the  third  bag." 

"But  why  all  this  again?"  inquired  Raikes. 

"That  concerns  me,"  exclaimed  the  detec- 
tive with  another  rapid  glance  at  the  undemon- 
strative figure  in  the  next  room.  "You  must 
follow  my  instructions  or  you  will  conclude 
as  badly  as  you  have  begun.  Now,"  continued 
Gratz,  "it  is  incredible  to  me  that,  with  the 
astuteness  with  which  you  are  credited,  that 
having  such  a  good  standpoint  to  begin  with, 
you  did  not  proceed  upon  that  basis." 

"I?"  questioned  the  -astonished  Raikes. 
"What  standpoint  had  I?" 

"Elimination,"  replied  Gratz. 

"Several  puzzling  possibilities  were  retired 
permanently. 

"Recall  the  details  as  we  have  enumerated 

[285] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

them :  An  impossible  door ;  the  window  equally 
out  of  the  question ;  the  substitution  of  the  coals 
for  the  coin. 

"It  is  very  simple.  The  outside  agency  un- 
feasible, we  must  look  within.  There  is  but 
one  conclusion " 

"And  that?"  interrupted  Raikes. 

"An  accessory." 

"Ah!"  cried  Raikes,  "unthinkable!" 

"Not  at  all,"  replied  Gratz;  "there  was  an 
accessory — yourself !" 

At  this  announcement  Raikes  seemed  about 
to  collapse  into  his  original  helplessness.  The 
facts  of  his  losses  were  extraordinary  enough, 
but  this  was  too  much. 

But  Gratz  hurried  on,  explained  the  uncon- 
scious visits  of  his  astounded  hearer  to  the 
cellar,  and  all  that  followed. 

"Then,"  exclaimed  Raikes,  when  he  had  con- 
cluded, "I  have  been  the  victim  of  hypnotic 
suggestion." 

"Precisely!"  replied  Gratz.  "The  story  was 
merely  the  medium  of  transmission,  and 
through  this  weird  conduit  the  story-teller  con- 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

veyed  his  instructions  to  your  subconscious- 
ness." 

"But,"  demanded  Raikes,  "why  this  substi- 
tion  of  coals?  It  strikes  me  that  a  scheme  so 
clever  as  all  this  would  scarcely  be  jeopardized 
by  such  an  absurdity." 

"That  contingency,"  answered  Gratz,  "was 
never  intended.  In  your  condition  of  mind, 
having  discharged  the  coin  upon  the  floor  of 
the  bin,  a  mental  idiosyncrasy  of  years  insisted 
upon  recognition. 

"In  some  inexplicable  way  you  retained 
enough  of  your  mental  identity  to  preserve 
some  manifestation  of  the  law  of  equivalents. 
In  other  words,  having  parted  with  something, 
you  demanded  something  in  return. 

"With  as  much  deliberation,  therefore,  as 
you  manifested  in  contributing  to  your  loss, 
you  attempted  to  reimburse  yourself  by  filling 
the  bag  with  coal. 

"In  some  occult  way  you  assured  yourself 
that  you  were  engaged  in  a  transaction  where 
one  commodity  took  the  place  of  another. 

"To  this  freak  of  mentality  the  idea  of  the 
pebbles  in  the  story  being  substituted  for  the 

[287] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

diamonds  contributed;  and  what  was  intended 
by  the  narrator  as  a  consistency  of  detail,  to 
be  explained  later  on,  made  an  unforeseen  ap- 
peal to  your  native  cupidity  and  provided  me 
with  a  veiy  satisfactory  clue. 

"Moreover,  the  narrator  assisted  himself  by 
allowing  you  to  contemplate  some  brilliants — 
a  sapphire,  a  diamond. 

"In  such  demonstrations  a  centralizing  ob- 
ject is  an  almost  indispensable  adjunct;  and 
putting  the  two  together,  the  stories,  the  bril- 
liants, it  is  not  difficult  to  see  that  you  have 
received  your  instructions  in  the  manner  indi- 
cated, and  obeyed  them  with  unexpected  con- 
sistency." 

For  a  moment  there  was  silence,  which  was 
sharply  disturbed  by  an  unexpected  and  ap- 
parently unsuggested  query  from  Gratz. 

"Were  you  ever,"  he  asked,  looking  directly 
at  Raikes,  "in  this  apartment  during  the  ab- 
sence of  its  occupant?" 

"No!"  stammered  Raikes,  apparently  very 
much  astonished  at  the  question. 

"You  lie!" 

Raikes  and  his  nephew  sprang  to  their  feet, 

[  288  1 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

their  eyes  bulging  in  the  direction  of  the  bed- 
room. 

In  the  doorway  stood  the  Sepoy. 

"You  lie!"  he  repeated,  "you  miserable  husk, 
you!  You  were  here  one  evening  in  my  ab- 
sence, or,  at  least,  what  you  supposed  was  my 
absence,"  and  raising  his  manacled  hands  the. 
speaker  pointed  to  the  closet.  "I  was  there," 
he  said. 

"Ah — ah!"  faltered  Raikes  chokingly. 

"And  now,"  continued  the  Sepoy,  "let  us 
get  to  the  end  of  this  business.  It  ought  to 
be  a  simple  proceeding.  You  want  three  miss- 
ing bags  of  gold ;  they  will  be  forthcoming  on 
one  condition." 

"And  what  is  that?"  cried  Raikes,  beginning 
to  withdraw  into  himself  as  if  he  expected  a 
sharp  bargain. 

"That  you  leave  the  details  of  the  transac- 
tion in  the  hands  of  this  gentleman,"  answered 
the  Sepoy,  pointing  to  Gratz.  "You  had  better 
consent,"  he  added  as  he  analyzed  the  hesita- 
tion of  the  startled  Raikes,  "or  I  shall  describe, 
with  photographic  minuteness,  all  that  oc- 
curred in  the  few  short  moments  of  your  visit." 

[289] 


Raikes  regarded  Gratz  helplessly. 

During  all  this  conversation  the  detective 
had  been  doing  some  rapid  thinking  and  had 
decided  upon  his  course,  so  nodding  to  Raikes, 
he  said:  "Leave  the  matter  to  me;  I  will  re- 
store your  coin  to  you  in  the  morning.  See  that 
neither  of  you  leaves  the  house  until  then,  or 
speak  to  a  soul  before  I  see  you." 

Whatever  objections  may  have  been  form- 
ing in  the  mind  of  the  miser  were  quickly  dissi- 
pated by  a  look  from  the  Sepoy,  and  without 
another  word  Raikes  and  his  nephew  departed. 

"Well,"  inquired  Gratz,  when  the  two  were 
again  alone,  "what  have  you  to  say  to  me  that 
you  do  not  want  Raikes  to  hear?" 

"You  will  know  shortly,"  replied  the  Sepoy 
after  a  few  moments  of  reflection,  with  his 
eyes  directed  upon  the  handcuffs.  "I  do  not 
have  to  resort  to  your  elaborate  reasoning  to 
discover  the  nature  of  your  profession.  These," 
holding  up  his  hands,  "are  unmistakable." 

"Yes,"  answered  Gratz  drily,  "they  require 
no  trope  or  metaphor  to  illustrate  their  appli- 
cation." 

"However,"  continued  the  Sepoy,  "I  have 

[290] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

just  listened  to  the  deductions  of  an  unusual 
acumen  for  analysis  along  abstract  lines." 

Gratz  bowed  his  acknowledgments. 

"That  is  simple,"  he  said,  "when  there  is 
such  a  liberal  supply  of  data." 

"True,"  responded  the  Sepoy.  "That  was 
an  oversight  on  my  part.  Still,  your  con- 
structive application,  too,  is  no  less  con- 
vincing." 

"But  to  what  does  all  this  lead?"  inquired 
Gratz  with  a  degree  of  impatience.  "Suppose 
we  admit  that  there  is  an  exquisite  balance 
maintained  between  my  analysis  and  my  syn- 
thesis, and  have  done  with  it.  You  have  some 
appeal  to  make  to  one  or  both  of  these  facul- 
ties." 

"Your  penetration  is  the  peer  of  your  rea- 
soning. Listen:  Will  you  do  me  the  favor 
of  assuming  that  your  comprehensive  resume 
of  a  few  moments  ago  is  all  I  care  to  hear  on 
the  subject?"  asked  the  Sepoy. 

"I  understand,"  replied  Gratz. 

"Very  well,  then,"  continued  the  Sepoy.  "I 
will  extend  to  you  the  courtesy  of  offering  no 
denial  to  anything  you  have  said." 

[291] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

"That,"  laughed  Gratz,  "is  the  height  of 
affability,  under  the  circumstances;  but  pro- 
ceed." 

"Good!"  responded  the  Sepoy.  "I  have  a 
suggestion  to  make.  It  is  understood,  in  the 
first  place,  that  Raikes  is  to  recover  his  coin; 
on  that  point  he  will  be  fully  satisfied.  But 
there  still  remains  the  recognition  of  your  serv- 
ices to  him;  you  will  have  more  difficulty  in 
convincing  him  of  his  obligation  than  you  had 
in  persuading  me  of  your  acumen." 

"Ah!"  murmured  Gratz;  "it  is  coming." 

"Are  you  any  judge  of  brilliants?"  inquired 
the  Sepoy  abruptly. 

"Somewhat,"  answered  Gratz;  "I  have  seen 
a  few  in  my  time." 

"Well,"  continued  the  Sepoy,  "kindly  put 
your  hand  in  my  right  vest  pocket  and  with- 
draw a  small  case  of  shagreen  which  you  will 
find  there." 

Gratz  obeyed. 

"Now,"  continued  the  Sepoy,  "press  the 
spring." 

As  Gratz  complied  with  this  instruction,  the 
lid  of  the  shagreen  case  flew  open  and  revealed 


the  superb  sapphire  which  had  radiated  such 
insidious  depravity  into  the  mind  of  the  miser. 

"What  do  you  think  of  that?"  inquired  the 
Sepoy. 

For  a  moment  or  so  Gratz  did  not  reply. 
The  mastery  of  its  cutting,  its  magnificent 
bulk,  its  unrivaled  purity  overwhelmed  him. 
"I  have  never  seen  one  like  it,"  he  said  finally, 
"if  it  is  genuine." 

"Oh,  you  need  not  doubt  it!"  exclaimed  the 
Sepoy,  "or,  if  you  do,  you  can  assure  yourself 
on  that  point.  Now  follow  me.  Six  bags  of 
Raikes'  coin  could  not  buy  that." 

"You  set  its  value  high,"  suggested  Gratz. 

"Naturally;  its  like  does  not  exist.  Money 
has  never  been  able  to  purchase  it.  There  is 
just  one  consideration  I  can  accept  for  it." 

"And  that?"  inquired  Gratz  as  the  Sepoy 
paused. 

"A  lapse  of  memory,"  replied  the  Sepoy. 

"A  lapse  of  memory!"  repeated  Gratz. 

"Yes.  Unlock  these  handcuffs  and  forget 
that  you  have  done  so." 

A  sudden  irradiation  seemed  to  shoot  from 
the  gem.  It  was  the  impulse  communicated 

[293] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

by  the  trembling  hand  of  the  detective,  who, 
either  to  conceal  the  flush  that  was  gradually 
transforming  his  pallid  face,  or  from  his  re- 
luctance to  remove  his  gaze,  continued  to  hold 
the  brilliant  in  much  the  same  oblivious  regard 
as  that  bestowed  upon  it  by  the  unhappy 
Raikes. 

Gratz  was  having  the  struggle  of  his  life. 

The  veins  fretted  through  his  temples  with 
frightful  distinction;  his  forehead  was  moist 
with  a  profuse  perspiration ;  his  breath  labored 
with  intermittent  entrance  and  egress. 

His  well-known  apathy,  his  exasperating 
negation  of  demeanor,  where  were  they  now? 

Gradually,  however,  in  the  manner  of  dis- 
heartened stragglers  whipped  again  into  the 
firing  line,  there  shadowed  in  his  expression 
evidences  of  moral  recovery  which  the  Sepoy 
did  not  like. 

The  professional  instincts  of  the  detective, 
reinspired  by  his  better  nature,  were  making 
some  very  obvious  appeals. 

The  eclat  of  this  singular  case  beckoned.  He 
seemed  to  brace  himself  morally  and  physically 

[294] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

as  he  leaned  back  in  his  chair  and  again  looked 
at  his  desperate  companion. 

At  once  the  Sepoy,  upon  whom  no  vestige  of 
this  mental  tumult  was  lost,  again  restored  the 
ebbing  temptation  to  its  flood  by  exclaiming: 

"Here  is  a  more  convincing  reason  still," 
and  raising  his  hands  to  his  breast,  in  order 
to  give  the  detective  easier  access  to  the  point 
designated  beneath  his  arms,  he  said:  "Reach 
into  the  pocket  on  the  left." 

For  a  moment  Gratz  hesitated.  If  he  had 
found  the  first  subsidy  difficult  to  refuse,  how 
might  he  resist  the  second,  or,  he  added  to  him- 
self, with  a  sort  of  usurious  exaltation,  the 
depravity  of  the  two  combined? 

Curiosity,  too,  without  which  no  detective  is 
truly  fit  for  his  calling,  moved  him,  so  with  the 
impatient  impulse  we  so  often  witness  when 
rectitude  is  about  to  subject  itself  to  the  per- 
suasions of  the  evil  one  for  the  ostensible 
purpose  of  combating  them  and  the  private 
determination  to  yield,  Gratz  extended  a  trem- 
bling hand  toward  the  Sepoy,  who  had  drawn 
himself  to  the  extreme  limit  of  his  sinewy 

[  295  ] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

height,  the  better  to  accommodate  his  figure 
to  the  intent  search  of  the  detective,  and 
then 

Just  as  Gratz  managed  to  insert  his  trem- 
bling fingers  over  the  edge  of  the  pocket  rim, 
a  pair  of  tense,  sinewy  hands  shot  upward  and 
with  incredible  dexterity  encircled  the  throat 
of  the  detective. 

The  surprise  was  complete. 

The  hands  of  the  unfortunate  man  flew  out 
wildly,  grasping  at  nothing,  and  the  next  in- 
stant closed  upon  the  wrists  of  the  Sepoy. 

But  the  recoil  was  too  late.  The  frightful 
grasp  concentrated  its  deadly  pressure. 

The  livid  face  of  the  detective  grew  purple. 
His  eyes  seemed  about  to  bulge  from  their 
sockets.  His  grip  relaxed  from  the  wrists  of 
his  antagonist,  and  then  all  vigor  seemed  to 
vanish  from  his  body,  and  he  sank  inertly  to 
the  floor. 

As  the  malignant  Sepoy  bestowed  the  stif- 
fening body  upon  the  carpet,  he  released  his 
horrible  clutch  upon  the  detective's  throat,  and, 
despite  his  manacles,  began  with  desperate 

[296] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

agility  to  search  the  silent  man's  waistcoat 
pockets. 

From  one  futile  quest  his  implacable  hands 
leaped  to  another,  the  length  of  chain  which 
held  the  two  handcuffs  together  rattling  an 
eerie  accompaniment  to  his  eagerness. 

At  last  he  withdrew  a  tiny  key. 

Grasping  the  precious  bit  of  steel  in  his  right 
hand  the  Sepoy  inserted  it  in  the  latch-hole  of 
the  left  manacle;  a  quick  turn,  and  the  steel 
clasp  relaxed  its  obnoxious  embrace. 

It  was  but  the  work  of  a  second  to  repeat 
these  operations  on  his  right  arm,  and  the 
Sepoy  was  free. 

"Ha!"  The  breath  seemed  to  whistle  from 
his  lungs  with  one  sharp,  exulting  impulse. 

He  stretched  his  superb  figure  to  its  utmost, 
and  with  the  smile  of  a  re-embodied  Lucifer 
restored  the  sapphire  to  its  case. 

For  a  brief  space  he  gazed  upon  the  man 
extended  upon  the  floor,  and  then,  urged  by 
some  devilish  impulse,  if  one  might  judge  from 
the  expression  of  his  countenance,  he  knelt  by 
the  prostrate  body  and  placed  his  ear  to  the 
pulseless  breast. 

[297] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

The  next  instant,  stimulated,  apparently,  by 
some  unexpected  endorsement  of  a  vague  pos- 
sibility, he  was  upon  his  feet  and  had  darted 
to  a  small  cabinet  near-by. 

His  hasty  foray  among  its  drawers  was  re- 
warded with  a  small  bottle,  the  stopper  of 
which  he  removed. 

With  a  quick  motion  of  the  head  to  escape 
the  full  force  of  the  pungent  odor  of  ammonia 
which  issued,  the  Sepoy  returned  to  the  un- 
fortunate Gratz,  and  wetting  the  tip  of  his 
handkerchief  with  a  few  drops  from  the  vial, 
he  passed  it  gently  to  and  fro  under  the  nostrils 
of  the  detective. 

Repeating  these  maneuvers  several  times,  the 
Sepoy  believed  that  he  remarked  a  faint  twitch- 
ing of  the  eyelids. 

At  this  manifestation  he  seized  a  sheet  of 
paper  and  directed  a  mimic  breeze  upon  the 
drawn  face. 

Again  he  attempted  an  enforced  inhalation  of 
the  strong  odor,  this  time  from  the  bottle  itself. 

The  result  was  startling. 

There  was  a  scarcely  perceptible  attempt  to 
turn  the  head ;  a  spasmodic  throb  in  the  throat. 

[298] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

Renewing  his  efforts  with  the  paper,  the 
Sepoy,  encouraged  by  what  he  saw,  placed  his 
arms  beneath  the  body  and  lifted  it  to  a  semi- 
reclining  attitude,  so  that  it  rested,  with  a  tilt 
forward,  against  a  chair-arm. 

From  the  table  the  evilly-smiling  man  took 
the  handcuffs,  and  grasping  the  unresisting 
arms  of  the  unfortunate  Gratz,  bent  them  with 
cruel  force  until  the  hands  met  behind  the 
gradually  stiffening  back. 

There  was  a  sharp  click,  and  the  next  in- 
stant the  manacles  embraced  the  wrists  of  the 
detective. 

Again  the  Sepoy  placed  the  bottle  so  that  a 
concentration  of  the  stinging  odor,  which  by 
now  permeated  the  atmosphere  of  the  entire 
room,  could  attack  the  sensitive  nasal  mem- 
branes more  directly,  and  unmistakable  evi- 
dences of  imminent  reanimation  quickened  the 
twitching  features. 

Again  he  lifted  the  uneasy  figure  and  placed 
it  upon  the  reclining  chair,  into  which  it  col- 
lapsed helplessly  with  a  nerveless  huddle. 

A  few  minutes  more  of  alternate  fan  and 

[299] 


THE    PL  AW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

bottle  resulted  in  the  opening  of  the  eyes  and 
the  utterance  of  a  choking  gasp. 

Assured  now,  the  Sepoy  rushed  to  the  bed- 
room, threw  aside  the  coverlets  and  possessed 
himself  of  one  of  the  sheets. 

With  the  aid  of  his  pocket-knife  he  ripped 
this  into  several  lengths,  with  which  he  returned 
to  the  rapidly  reviving  Gratz. 

In  his  grim  struggle  for  reanimation  the 
firm  lines  about  the  mouth  of  the  unfortunate 
man  had  finally  relaxed,  and  into  this  ugly 
opening  the  Sepoy  inserted  a  strip  of  the  sheet 
and  secured  it  in  a  rigid  knot  behind  the  neck 
of  his  victim. 

With  a  few  dexterous  turns  and  knots  he 
bound  the  body  to  the  chair  with  the  remain- 
ing lengths  of  linen,  and  hastening  to  the  wash- 
stand  grasped  a  water  pitcher  and  deluged  the 
face  of  the  now  thoroughly  awakened  Gratz. 

From  the  look  in  his  eyes  it  was  evident  that 
his  senses  had  not  only  fully  returned,  but 
that  he  was  perfectly  aware  of  the  changed 
conditions  and  their  relative  humiliations. 

For  a  moment  an  expression  vaguely  sug- 
gestive of  admiration  shadowed  through  the 


slightly  flushed  countenance,  and  the  next  in- 
stant it  returned  to  its  customary  apathy,  from 
which  it  was  not  again  disturbed  during  the 
bitter  ordeal  to  which  the  helpless  Gratz  was 
subjected. 

"And  now,"  exclaimed  the  Sepoy  with  a 
frightful  grin  of  malice,  "I  trust  that  your 
senses  are  sufficiently  restored  to  receive  a 
farewell  suggestion  or  two.  You  will  notice," 
he  went  on  with  evil  emphasis,  "that  I  say 
'farewell  suggestions,'  for  I  assure  you  that 
you  will  never  set  eyes  on  me  again. 

"A  little  previous  to  the  change  which  re- 
sulted in  your  present  predicament,  I  extended 
to  you  the  courtesy  of  all  sorts  of  tribute  to 
your  acumen. 

"Now — note  my  liberality — I  do  not  insist 
upon  a  reciprocal  indorsement  of  my  dexterity, 
since  I  see" — pointing  to  the  gag  which  he 
had  inserted  in  the  mouth  of  the  detective — 
"since  I  see,  with  deep  regret,  that  you  have  an 
impediment  in  your  speech. 

"I  excuse  you  in  advance. 

"Still,  I  cannot  resist  the  temptation  of 
chiding  your  indifference  to  such  a  brilliant 

[301] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

argument  as  this,"  and  the  Sepoy  caused  the 
sapphire  to  scintillate  its  mocking  rebuke  into 
the  eyes  of  the  wretched  Gratz. 

"I  must  also  improve  the  occasion  by  call- 
ing your  attention  to  the  reprimand  offered 
by  your  plight  to  your  curiosity,  for  you  see 
to  what  a  pass  it  has  brought  you. 

"However,  since  it  would  be  a  malice  of 
which  I  am  incapable  not  to  gratify  it,  I  will 
show  you  what  it  was  I  had  in  reserve,"  and 
the  Sepoy  produced  the  small  shagreen  case 
with  which  Raikes  had  been  on  such  question- 
able terms  of  familiarity,  and  pressing  back 
the  lid  revealed  the  splendid  diamond  to  the 
still  impassive  Gratz. 

With  a  continuation  of  his  elaborate  cour- 
tesy and  his  purposely  stilted  phrasing,  the 
Sepoy  said:  "If  the  sapphire  was  argument, 
this  was  certainly  conviction.  The  moral  bar- 
rier which  could  withstand  the  assault  of  the 
first,  must,  unquestionably,  have  yielded  to  the 
insidious  attack  of  the  second. 

"But  since  you  have  managed  to  place  your- 
self beyond  the  reach  of  such  considerations, 
I  will  be  compelled  to  discontinue  my  futile 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

eloquence  and  leave  you  to  your  more  mature 
reflections. 

"Observe!"  he  continued,  as  he  replaced  the 
sapphire  in  the  case  and  restored  the  latter 
to  the  right-hand  pocket  of  his  waistcoat,  "I 
place  the  argument  in  this  repository";  and 
treating  the  diamond  in  like  manner,  he  de- 
posited that  in  the  left-hand  pocket  and  added : 
"And  place  the  conviction  on  this  side. 

"It  is  not  often  that  one  is  the  embodiment 
of  belles-lettres,  having  such  details  of  logic 
so  easily  within  reach." 

During  all  this  travesty  of  demeanor  and 
phrase,  with  its  tantalizing  mockery  and  its 
crafty  insinuation,  Gratz  had  betrayed  no  emo- 
tion whatever,  nor  did  his  eyes  lose  one  whit 
of  their  usual  placidity  as  he  beheld  the  Sepoy, 
with  a  sort  of  lithe,  animal  rapidity,  produce  a 
small  traveling-case  from  the  wardrobe  and 
return  with  it  to  the  bag  of  coin  on  the  table. 

"You  see,"  continued  the  Sepoy  as  he  was 
about  to  deposit  the  bag  in  the  case,  "I  have 
left  room  for  this.  I  anticipated  its  addition 
to  my  paraphernalia  and  made  preparations 
accordingly. 


"Notice  how  neatly  it  fits  in.  And  now  I 
offer  you  my  sympathy  for  the  miscarriage  of 
your  plans. 

"This,  to  a  man  of  sentiment  and  enterprise, 
is  always  obnoxious.  I  feel  myself  indebted 
to  you  for  some  exceedingly  intelligent  mental 
processes,  and,  believe  me,  I  part  with  you  with 
a  feeling  so  nearly  resembling  regret  that  I 
will  not  do  you  the  discourtesy  of  doubting  that 
the  sentiment  is  genuine. 

"I  leave  you  to  make  explanations  to  your 
clients  in  whatsoever  way  you  may  see  fit.  I 
salute  you!"  and  the  next  instant  the  Sepoy 
had  slipped  through  the  doorway  into  the  hall, 
along  which  he  hurried  until  he  reached  the 
main  entrance  of  the  house. 

To  make  his  way  through  this  into  the  ves- 
tibule and  thence  into  the  street  was  the  work 
of  the  next  few  moments,  and  with  a  grin  of 
malicious  triumph  he  descended  the  steps  which 
led  to  the  pave. 

Scarcely  had  his  feet  touched  the  ground 
when  a  man  from  either  side  of  the  stone  balus- 
trade stepped  out,  and  each  grasped  an  arm 
of  the  scowling  Sepoy. 

[304] 


"A  moment,  please!"  exclaimed  one  of  the 
men,  as  he  snapped  back  the  shield  of  a  small 
lantern  he  carried  and  directed  its  searching 
light  into  the  distorted  countenance. 

"Ah!"  exclaimed  his  captor  to  the  fellow  on 
the  other  side  of  the  prisoner,  "this  is  the  chap, 
Tom." 

"Now,  mister,  you  can  walk  back.  Not  a 
word;  you  may  be  all  right  and  we  may  be 
all  wrong ;  it  can  soon  be  settled  in  there." 

"One  question,  please,"  begged  the  Sepoy. 
"Who  are  you?  By  what  right  do  you  detain 
me?" 

"One  at  a  time,  mister/'  replied  the  man 
with  the  lantern.  "There's  a  man  inside  who 
can  answer  these  questions  for  you." 

A  sudden  light  penetrated  the  mind  of  the 
Sepoy.  "Ah!"  he  exclaimed,  "I  understand." 

"That's  good,  mister;  it  will  save  a  deal  of 
explanation." 

"These  men,  then,"  muttered  the  Sepoy  to 
himself,  "are  the  subordinates  of  the  detective 
within." 

At  that  moment  the  moon  slipped  out  from 

[305] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

behind  a  mask  of  cloud  and  silhouetted  the 
three. 

By  its  light  the  prisoner  examined  the  grim 
countenances  before  him.  "Surely,"  he  de- 
cided, "there  is  nothing  in  these  features  to 
indicate  a  strenuous  moral  objection  to  the 
bribery  of  the  contents  of  my  traveling-case," 
and  at  the  thought  of  the  absurd  discrepancy 
between  his  present  predicament  and  the  cyn- 
ical altitudes  of  a  short  time  since,  and  as  he 
considered  the  humiliation  awaiting  him  when 
he  was  compelled  once  more  to  face  the  detec- 
tive, he  decided  to  venture  on  another  attempt 
to  purchase  his  freedom. 

With  this  thought  he  was  about  to  place  the 
case  he  carried  on  the  ground,  when  one  of 
the  men,  remarking  his  movement  and  mis- 
taking its  purpose,  cried:  "Here;  none  of 
that!" 

"But,"  expostulated  the  Sepoy,  "y°u  do 
not- 

"Shut  up!"  replied  the  fellow  coarsely. 
"Come  inside  and  show  us  where  you  have  left 
the  chief.  You  here,  the  boss  in  there — some- 
thing's wrong." 

[306] 


THE    PL  AW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE, 

With  a  muttered  curse,  and  urged  by  no 
ceremonious  hands,  the  Sepoy  reascended  the 
steps. 

Having  in  his  haste  to  escape  neglected  to 
latch  the  doors,  the  raging  Sepoy  had  no  diffi- 
culty in  conducting  his  captors  along  the  hall- 
way to  his  room. 

In  a  few  moments  this  strangely  assorted 
trio  reached  the  apartment  in  which  the  Sepoy 
had  but  a  short  time  before  disported  himself, 
so  to  speak,  with  such  waspish  reprisal,  and  de- 
livered such  a  farrago  of  ridicule  and  cynicism 
upon  the  defenseless  head  of  the  silent  figure 
bound  to  the  chair. 

At  sight  of  this  extraordinary  spectacle  the 
two  understrappers  came  to  a  standstill  and 
looked  upon  the  Sepoy  with  a  species  of 
respect. 

Never  before  had  they  beheld  their  chief  in 
such  a  predicament;  the  means  of  its  accom- 
plishment must  have  been  amazingly  clever, 
and  the  agent  himself  somewhat  of  a  marvel. 

However,  while  one  of  the  men  stood  guard 
over  the  Sepoy,  with  a  renewal  of  his  watch- 
fulness awakened  by  what  he  saw,  the  other 

[307] 


proceeded  to  unfasten  the  gag  and  remove  the 
strips  which  hound  the  unfortunate  Gratz. 

After  a  pause  of  inscrutable  regard  of  the 
Sepoy,  who,  despite  the  embarrassing  denoue- 
ment, managed  to  maintain  a  fair  degree  of 
composure,  Gratz,  addressing  the  man  who 
had  released  him,  said : 

"You  will  find  the  key  of  these  handcuffs 
on  the  table  yonder." 

Obedient  to  the  direction  of  the  detective's 
glance,  the  man  proceeded  to  the  table,  found 
the  object  of  his  quest,  and  inserting  it  in  the 
handcuffs  detached  them  from  the  hands  of  the 
still  impassive  Gratz. 

"Now,"  continued  the  latter  calmly,  "I  will 
transfer  these  ornaments  to  that  gentleman. 
Secure  him  precisely  as  you  found  me,  with 
the  exception  of  the  gag." 

Presently  this  was  done. 

At  this,  turning  to  his  subordinates,  the  de- 
tective said:  "Leave  me  with  this  gentleman 
for  a  while;  I  will  call  you  in  case  of  need." 

As  the  pair  passed  through  the  doorway, 
Gratz,  with  no  intimation  of  triumph  or  exul- 
tation in  his  manner,  addressed  the  unhappyj 

[308J 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

Sepoy,  with  an  emphasis,  however,  which  im- 
plied that  he  had  not  forgotten  the  experience 
to  which  he  had  been  subjected. 
"And  now  what  have  you  to  say?" 
The  Sepoy  looked  his  questioner  directly  in 
the  eyes,  with  a  glance  that  was  subtle  in  its 
insinuation  and  eloquent  of  collusive  sugges- 
tion, and  replied: 

"The  sapphire  is  still  in  my  right  waistcoat 
pocket,  and  the  diamond  in  the  left." 

THE  END 

As  the  beautiful  reader  reached  this  sin- 
gular conclusion,  which  came  with  an  abrupt- 
ness that  indicated  the  decrepit  imagination  of 
the  author  and  his  overworked  vocabulary,  she 
looked  up  from  the  absurd  vehicle  of  all  this 
hectic  style  and  incident  and  beheld  in  the  eyes 
of  her  auditor  a  suggestion  of  the  light  that 
is  indigenous  to  neither  land  nor  sea. 

To  Dennis,  who  had  in  his  composition  the 
material  of  a  poet,  if  not  the  finish,  the  melodi- 
ous intonations  of  the  widow  had  seemed  like 
the  incongruous  orchestration  of  birds  in  the 

[  309  ] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

treetops  to  some  minor  tragedy  among  the 
denizens  of  the  underbrush. 

Her  elocution  was  exquisite  and  provided 
the  bizarre  narrative  with  a  refinement  which 
contrasted  with  its  crudities,  like  Valenciennes 
lace  on  a  background  of  calico. 

"Well,"  she  said  smilingly,  after  she  had 
subjected  his  ingenuous  glance  to  the  rapid 
analysis  of  her  intuition,  with  a  satisfaction 
which  it  startled  her  to  recognize,  "what  do 
you  think  of  it?" 

"Is  that  the  end?"  asked  Dennis. 

"Yes,  it  is  the  end." 

With  a  shade  of  emphasis,  intended  by 
Dennis  to  indicate  that  the  words  of  the  reply 
of  the  widow  were  suggestive  of  other  finalities 
which  he  did  not  like  to  consider,  he  said : 

"That  is  no  end;  it  looks  to  me  as  though 
the  author  has  struck  his  limits." 

"No,"  objected  the  widow,  "I  fancy  that  he 
has  left  the  subject  open  so  that  the  reader 
can  solve  the  riddle  in  his  own  way." 

"There  is  no  riddle!"  exclaimed  Dennis. 

"No?"  inquired  the  widow;  "and  that  splen- 

[310] 


THE    FLAW    IN    THE    SAPPHIRE 

did  sapphire,  that  magnificent  diamond  to 
tempt  the  detective?" 

"They  will  not  tempt  him,"  said  Dennis  with 
simple  conviction  and  a  degree  of  feeling  that 
might  lead  one  to  suppose  that  he  was  an  in- 
dispensable element  in  the  situation.  "He  will 
recollect  his  professional  pride ;  he  will  remem- 
ber that  he  is  a  man." 

"Oh!"  exclaimed  the  widow  with  an  inde- 
scribable intonation. 

"Don't  you  think  that  I  am  right?"  asked 
Dennis. 

"Yes,"  replied  his  companion  with  a  pro- 
nounced emphasis  on  the  personal  pronoun 
which  followed,  "yes,  you  are  right";  and  as 
she  considered  the  frank  revelation  of  char- 
acter in  his  reply  and  contrasted  it  with  the 
possible  disclosures  of  similar  situations 
among  the  majority  of  men  she  knew,  she 
added : 

"I  am  glad  that  we  have  read  the  story." 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


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